The King and The Trainer
by viciouslittlething
Summary: Hilda has spent her whole life dreaming about becoming the Pokemon champion, and has never had time for boys. But when she meets N, her whole world becomes a constant battle against her feelings and whether or not she should take advantage of the circumstances. Rated M for some mature material/language.
1. Chapter 1

[Author's note: I do not own Pokemon or the game Pokemon Black, nor do I claim that the relationship between the player and N is anything but platonic in the actual game. This is merely something that I deemed plausible in my own mind from the interactions between the two. This is a work of fiction created for others enjoyment. Please take the time to review so I can get better in my writing!]

_Hilda's P.O.V._

His name was N, and he made her want inexplicable things from him.

She couldn't tell why. He was meant to be her enemy, after all. The main antagonist of the adventure that she had been wanting, no, destined, to travel; the King of Team Plasma, for god's sake! They were meant to be anything but what she wanted them to be. They were polar opposites, meant only to clash with each other. He was outspoken, whilst she restrained most of her answers to nods and smiles. He was raised with feral Pokemon, whilst she had met her Snivy not a few months back. It was a match made in hell, and by god, did she know the price of pursuing it.

There would be only one champion, and loving the boy with the crown meant giving up her lifelong dream. Sure, she would perhaps gain his affection, maybe even the touch she craved so badly, but those would not last. Eventually, his rank as Champion and King of a terrible organization would force her to return to her hometown, head hanging and mouth telling the story of the boy with the green hair. Her mother would comfort her, and her Pokemon would too, the dear partners they were. But somehow, she it would never replace that dream of being the champion. A boy was not worth giving up her destiny for.

So she fought the feelings. She had fought them during that moment in the Ferris wheel, where he admitted his identity to her and stared her down with blazing eyes. She had fought them when he told her of her Pokemon's love for her in Karakusa town, instead focusing on her training, and denied them when the Goddess of Peace said those strange words in the castle:

"_Oh, person who provides N heart with tranquil..."_

The words had shocked her then, but she didn't resign, even as she heard a Goddess tell her that her nemesis held some sort of love for her. Instead, he fought the memories of his eyes, dark and brooding with something resembling affection flickering in them when he looked at her. She fought all the cravings and the dreams that left her wanting. The dreams, especially, were the worst. It didn't matter where she slept. The thoughts of N haunted her, woke her in the middle of the night just as the fantasy reached its high point. They always ended with N, and the wondering if he had dreams of her, too.

Now? Now they were alone in the room where she had battled the champion, the only ones left standing in the battlefield. The others had left, bored with the whole thing and off to find a new cause. They had seen nothing but the fall of a king. But Hilda, she had seen N at his weakest, being berated by his father. She had witnessed him being called a nothing by the one who had over seen his raising. It should have empowered her and made her feel strong, but it didn't. Instead, she felt pity, compassion. She should have wanted to laugh, but instead she wanted to kiss his face that showed all of his pain.

It sickened her and repulsed her, the whole idea, but at the same time, she craved to follow through with it. She had learned about him, and in doing so she had felt the twinge of...love, maybe? No, she couldn't think like that. She had to simply go over what she had learned; maybe that would keep her focus off of those dark eyes. He was innocent at heart, she knew that now. A lion in sheep's clothing: the phrase would never fit anyone better. And he knew her too, she could tell that as well. Knew she had a lion's heart herself, and knew she had the makings of a champion. Perhaps even a queen. He knew she had the love of some very blessed Pokemon as well. Yet she could not tell if he knew her feelings for him.

A moment later, the pain on his face from before was gone. He now looked at her with..what? She couldn't tell. He was unreadable, except for the glint of something in his eye, as always. And then he spoke, and she felt something in her twitch with sadness as he said a goodbye.

"You said you had a dream..fulfill that dream." The words were a quiet surrender, a white flag in the midst of the war. Her own face, one that had once been a mask of determination, softened at the realization. He was giving up, and in the process, encouraging her to move forward in her journey. There had never been a more sorrowful battle for her, even though she had won.

"Make your wonderful dream a reality. I believe you can do it, if anyone." His face was now smiling somewhat unconvincingly, as if he were unaffected. But if anyone could see through it, it was Hilda. It was the champion herself who knew the fallen King, and as he turned to walk away, she finally spoke to him.

"Wait."

He stopped, his back remaining turned to her. But she could almost feel his shock. She was the quiet girl. She almost never spoke, much less to him. She spoke through her method of fighting, through her Pokemon and her never ending success in battle. That had been easy, but talking to the boy that had been in her dreams? This was a whole new type of battle, and her dear Pokemon could not help her this time.

"Stay." She was monosyllabic, but that was an achievement considering how she felt. N slowly turned, an eyebrow quirking up and then coming back down to furrow with the other one.

"What do you mean, stay?" She had spoken two words, but yet he already understood that she wanted him to remain in her company. She could see that as he slowly made his way towards her, closer although not nearly as close as she wanted.

"I have a ton of battles to fight." Her reply was lengthy, and he seemed almost impressed that she could say more than one word at a time. "But for now, I think I'll enjoy the victory of this one." Her words were teasing, and the pulled a small smirk onto the green-haired boy's mouth. Something in her twitched.

"I know about your feelings, you know." The unexpected retort froze her, and her eyes went wide as he spoke. How had he known? He couldn't have. She didn't even know, for crying out loud. What progress she had made with words felt like nothing now, and she resigned again to a lapse of silence. He was closer again, and if she reached out her arm she was sure she could touch him. She wasn't stupid enough to do it, of course, but it was a nice thought to distract her from their short proximity. "It surprised me at first. To think such an ambitious, wild-eyed beauty could ever hold a place in her heart for her nemesis. Yet as I said, even the champion had it in her heart to forgive me my sins, to even love them, too." He was closer now, enough that she could feel his heavy breath. What was he doing? He seemed rather nervous about it, whatever it was. "She will have to forgive me again, for what I am about to do."

A sudden pressure was on her mouth, light and almost tender. How many had he kissed before? Ten? Twenty? Heaven knew he was good looking enough. But this was not the hard, experienced kiss of a seasoned professional. This was the gentleness of an unsure boy, and all at once Hilda realized that he was nothing but a scared boy who wanted to be more than that. Yet at the same time, there was a forcefulness that would not let her pull away. A forcefulness telling her that he had wanted this, and he would not have anything else. Before she could return the favor and tell him the same, he was pulling away and stalking off, almost angrily. Now it was her turn for her eyebrows to furrow, and she was left thinking that yes, he had dreamed about her too.

It was only later than she met him again.

She had gone back home after the year long journey was up, deciding that her mother's bright and happy demeanor was what she needed after the journey she had taken. They had gushed over her main Pokemon and her evolution from Snivy to a beautiful new Pokemon, and they talked about everything that happened, but Persephone cleverly left out the Harmonia boy during their daily talks. It was not that he was a secret, or that the quick kiss he had given her was, but merely that she wanted to forget about both of them. She wanted nothing to do with love. She would leave that to Bianca, who was currently wrapped up in Cheren and his new maturity. She had more important things to deal with, Pokemon to train and keep in shape. But during that lazy Saturday morning, where she was awoken from her bed by the sound of the people bustling outside, it became evident that he would not let himself be forgotten.

Groaning in agitation at her small town, Hilda pushed aside the covers, standing with sudden vigor as she ripped aside her window curtains. Her eyes searched for the hubbub, finding nothing at first but a small mob of civilians at the entrance to the town. Then she saw a flash of green in the center of the mob, and out of habit, she looked.

He was there.

Surrounded by people, asking him questions and prodding him for information, was N. She immediately went numb, unsure of what else to do but to go into lock down and let no one into her heart, like she did when she had first returned home. She remembered clearly the boys, begging for her affections as they all looked on like she was a goddess. They still did, but with less adoration and more bitterness. It was not that none of them were attractive, but more than none would compare to N Harmonia. She could see those arms of his pushing through the tiny crowd that had gathered, and he was obviously after something. It was clear where his destination was, and as he slipped out of sight of Hilda's window, she felt a growing dread that was only increased by the sound of a knock on the door.

"Hello? Oh, hello. You seem to be making quite a fuss. Can I help you?" Her mother's voice, oblivious and well-meaning.

"I'm here for Hilda. I'm a...friend, you could say." His voice, innocence veiled with a false toughness that he put on for the public.

Her mother, charismatic as always, laughed with a certain amount of pride. "It seems everyone is. Ever since she became a champion and completed a Pokedex, everyone is out for her company. But right now, she's up in her room. I'll go get her." Footsteps up the stairs, then her mother poked her head in to catch her daughter staring blindly out the window.

"Oh, dear, you're up! There's someone here for you. Some boy. He's kind of cute, actually. Come on down when you're ready." She could hear the door close again, and her mother returning down the stairs. She would never be ready. No amount of training could bring her down those stairs and into the sight of him, but she would try. She went through the motions hurriedly, pulling on some clothes and throwing her hair up into a ponytail and yanking the hair through the back of her baseball cap. No makeup: she'd faced two whole regions of trainers and gym leaders without make up. She could face one boy without long eyelashes or lined eyes.

With that, she was ready, and she took a deep breath before she went down the stairs.

The scene was surprisingly casual. Her mother sat at the table, conversing steadily with N as they both sipped coffee. Well, she sipped coffee, anyway. N's beverage looked untouched. Perhaps he had been excited to see her after all.

_N's P.O.V._

"Hello." One word left her pretty mouth, as per usual, but it was enough to catch both people's attention.

"Oh, darling! I was just talking to Mr. Harmonia about you. I was telling him all about how you caught those legendary Pokemon, and how they seemed to love you quite a bit. Really, I don't think anyone else is as dedicated as you.." Hilda's attention trailed N as her mother gushed happily, and what he saw in it was a mix of surprise and longing. He was terrific at hiding emotion, but two could play at that game, it seemed, because a second later the girl's face was empty like his. He wanted to laugh at her stubborn demeanor, as she was always able to match him in a game. The game did not go unnoticed.

"Oh, I see you know him..I'll just be in my own room if either of you need me." Never one to stay unwanted, Ms. Black trailed up the stairs, nudging her daughter on the way. It wasn't until the door shut that either of the two spoke.

She was the first to break the silence, and the words that left her mouth were accusing. "Why are you here?"

He could not hold her penetrating gaze, and eventually he broke it to stare at his untouched mug. Slender fingers traced the rim, and he had planned to take his time answering, but she wouldn't have it.

"Answer me, damn you." She was ferocious, N knew that, but he'd forgotten just how much.

"I want to give you this." His hand reached into his pocket, pulling out the pokeball that nestled there. "It's the legendary Pokemon that I captured in Geechisu's name. Think of it as an apology." He lay it on the table, knowing her and knowing that she could not resist the offer of a new companion to love her. All Pokemon she adopted into her care loved her, protected her, served her like a queen and not a partner. When they wanted out of captivity, he didn't doubt that she would release them, but what Pokemon would? Yes, another Pokemon to adore and cherish over, and he knew deep down that she could never resist such an opportunity. As predicted, Hilda slowly inched towards the table, unable to resist the magnetic pull of a Pokemon. One last glance at him, and then the pokeball was gone, safe in her grasp.

Her gaze was filled with wariness and..hurt? Why? He didn't understand. He had just given her his legendary Pokemon freely, yet she wasn't pleased. Seconds later, she spoke, her voice still raspy like a smoker from her years of silence. He didn't mind. If she could see past his deeds, he could see past her faulted voice.

"You left me." _Oh_. "Where did you go? You kissed me and then you left. I wanted you, and you left me there like an unwanted toy." She lost the eye contact war this time, her baby blues looking at the floor. Her tone betrayed none of her hurt, but it didn't have to. Eyes were the window to the soul, and he could tell that her soul had missed him. He couldn't imagine why. He was stupid and clumsy and evil, and she wanted him. He didn't think he would ever understand her reasoning. "I wanted you, and you didn't want me."

He immediately stood, ready to defend his claim despite the shock of her sudden confession. "But I did." Oh, he had. He had pictured her and dreamed of her and drawn her, but nothing satisfied him until that kiss. And that had only prolonged the inevitable. He was drawn to her, by lust and by love especially, and she believed he didn't want her?

"Liar." She almost spit at him, like a crackling fireplace that had been poked too much.

"I'm not lying."

"Then actually say it, coward, instead of just answering me."

"Say what?" That was a useless question. He knew what she wanted to hear.

"Tell me the truth."

"I want you."

"Convince me."

He had been taking steps towards her, but at her last answer he stopped. "Convince you of what?"

Hilda's gaze, piercing and almost reading him like a book, stared him down. "I said, convince me."

It was an invitation to take his prize, to take what he wanted. He could not have the championship, she was saying, but he could have her as a consolation prize. After all he had been through, he could have something that he had wanted since he first set eyes on her.

So he took her.

In half a second the situation burst like a bubble. A year of frustration and anguish and separating and laughing and battling and all of it had driven him mad, and now he could finally let it all out. In the next minute he was pushing her against the wall, no, slamming her like a wild animal. It wasn't surprising. He had been surrounded by wild Pokemon his whole life, and when it came down to it, his very core was feral. Desperate to prove to her that he was not weak. He was strong, and he would take her.

Mouth against mouth, and in the battle for dominance he realized she was strong too. She had won the world with her battle skills, yet he was still surprised at her strength. His long fingers gripped the tanned skin on her back just above her shorts, sure to leave a mark as they dug into flesh greedily, lustily. Her arms constricted in turn around his neck, and although he was a head taller than her she still pulled him harder into the kiss. A leg, long and slender from constant travels, wrapped around his lower half, and she pulled that into her too. He wanted her, and she had to know. After all, his need was evident in the hardness tucked away in his jeans. Oh, he did, and he would have satisfied a year of wanting against that living room wall if she had not pulled away. Barely an inch away, but enough to separate their hungry lips that had a tendency to crash against each other.

"No." Words had never crushed him so much, but he should have seen it coming. She would never surrender a battle so easily, no matter how much she wanted to. He had noticed that quality every time they had battled. "You have to fight for your prize, N." Her hand slid down from the back of his next, down his chest, to the need, and to his disappointment, back up again to his back. "Fight for your champion, if you're really a king." The title, derived from his place as King of Team Plasma, should have caused him pain, but…instead it made him feel like he was at his coronation again, wearing the crown as they all bowed.

His answer was whispered, their breath colliding as he spoke in a hushed tone. "How?"

She smiled coyly. "Go on an adventure with me. Travel the region, and prove your worth. I won't surrender simply for lust." There. There was her deal, and in his haste he accepted it with a hurried nod. But instead of attacking him again, like he had wanted, she uncoiled herself from the body that she was fighting against wanting, and sauntered upstairs, calling her retort over her shoulder.

"There's a guest room next to mine. You can sleep there, if you plan on staying. Until then, there's a TV you can busy yourself with. Eat whatever is in the fridge." She turned in her doorway, a small smile playing on her mouth.

"Later, your majesty."


	2. Chapter 2

I hated her.

Actually, that was a lie. I loved her, but for now, I would settle for hating her.

She had tricked me, used my own hormones to manipulate what she wanted out of me and then sauntered away with both my Pokemon and my heart. She'd feigned hurt, and I, stupid as I was, had fallen for it. And now I was wrapped around Hilda's little finger again, just like I had been all those months ago. Willing to do anything to please her, willing to travel any distance to see her smile. I would never admit it, but she astounded me. She was a champion in all senses of the word. She never lost a battle, not once. She'd captured several legendary Pokemon in mere Pokeballs, and all I had done was cause destruction. What she saw in me..I had no idea.

They tell me that my upbringing, that my father, is to blame, but I have a difficult time believing it. Even though it's all said and done and there's nothing left to fight against, it doesn't matter. It was my fault. It didn't matter the 'your majesty' thing was just a joke on her part. My father used me, abused me, put a crown on my head and called me a king and then took it away like a prized toy. I couldn't understand. Why would he do something so awful? He'd convinced me of this lifestyle, raised me to fight for Pokemon and to hate trainers, and that was easy..until Hilda, at least. She was different. Her Pokemon were ecstatic just to be with her, willing to do anything to please her. They wanted to battle, and that confused me. She in general confused me, with her empathy and her smiles and her unwavering will to win. I didn't understand the smiles, or the pity in her eyes the day that I lost to her and my father nearly disowned me. I didn't understand, and then she finally spoke, and suddenly it clicked.

She had liked me.

And I kissed her out of what I like to think is sheer impulse. It's not, and it wasn't, but I'm fine with telling lies to myself. I don't like to think about how she was seconds away from returning the kiss, or how beautiful she looked every time I saw her after a long period of absence. We didn't see each other much. She had challenges and gyms to battle and friends to laugh with, and I was the leader of the organization she hated the very most. There was never time for a friendship, much less romance, but that didn't stop anything.

I would have attacked her in the Ferris Wheel if I could've. No Plasma recruits to hunt me down, none of that Cheren boy or the Bianca girl to interrupt just as the situation comes to fruition. Just me, her..and the confession that I was forced to admit. Forced, because Father had seen it. He had seen the way I looked at her, bewitched as she fought with the Pokemon she loved so dearly. He had seen it, and I have the scars on my back to prove it. Damn the person who told me I hadn't suffered in her name, that everything I had done had not been in consideration of her.

Footsteps behind me distract me from my thoughts, but I don't turn from my spot in the kitchen. Light, quick footsteps, a stride too quick to match the leisurely Mrs. Black, and suddenly she's there and I'm forgetting all about the scars on my back and the man who caused them. Suddenly she's there and she's smiling and putting the sun to shame with that very same smile, and I can't help the small grin that tugs at my own lips. She had always looked shamelessly happy, and nothing had changed. Her Serperior is curled around her calf, avoiding the Liepard which occasionally bats at it. She has so many Pokemon, and although it disappoints me that she keeps them locked up in a box for so long, I say nothing, instead turning my attention back to the counter.

"What? No hello?" She's taken to speaking more now, and over the week she's chattered so much that her hoarse voice has grown clear again. Her personality is vibrant, loud and cynical at times but unashamed of the ideas it produces. At the same time, she's calm, clear-headed. She doesn't panic like her little blonde friend, and she doesn't over think it like the dark-haired boy. She just does, and I love it. I don't like to think that what my father said about her bewitching me was true, but at this point, I don't think there's any other explanation.

Another small smile, for her sake, before I answer. "Hello." I've been here a week, yet she's already taken it upon herself to forge something remnant of an old friendship between us. I know what she's doing. She's making up for lost time, for the year that we spent together, seeing but not touching. She was untouchable in my eyes, and me in hers, and in a way that's still true. The..erm, session from the other night is nearly all but forgotten, like it never happened even though she initiated it. I keep waiting on her to tell me to pack, that we're going on another journey, but she never does. She just walks around and sings and occasionally catches me staring at her. Sometimes, she'll walk into the room and we'll talk like old friends, and others she'll walk in and completely ignore me. She is an enigma, a maze, and I honestly don't mind the idea of never leaving the labyrinth.

"You seem tired. Did you sleep last night?" She knows about my sleeping habits, my staying up until one in the morning just thinking and listening. She hates it, and she's always finding a way to encourage me to go to sleep. She tells me I'm different when I'm tired, that I'm boring the next day when I don't sleep, but sometimes I like to think that it's because she cares. It's stupid, though. I know it's probably just because she's sick of hearing me pace around until the late hours of the night.

I shrug, my focus on the empty counter. "Bad dreams, that is all." Dreams of the whip burning into my flesh, screams of dying Pokemon. I cringe, and my revulsion does not go unnoticed.

"Oh." She doesn't say much, but she doesn't have to. She is perfectly capable of speaking, but sometimes, her expression does a much better job at it. Her eyebrows are drawn together now, which means she's probably trying to figure out what I'm not telling her.

A pause, lasting one, two, three heartbeats, before she speaks. "What was it about?"

I smile again, bittersweet this time. I don't exactly enjoy the constant smiling, but she craves to see those she cares for happy, and I'm not about to stand in her way. I turn away, moving to the couch. "Nothing. Just bad dreams is all."

She follows. "Tell me." An order, not an inquiry. Too bad I don't follow orders anymore.

"No."

"And why not?"

"Because I don't want to see you upset." The springs squeak as she plops down beside me.

Her nose crinkles in offense, and I can tell that I've hit a mark. "Who says I'll get upset?"

My hand itches to smooth the worry wrinkle from her cheek, and out of what I still claim is sheer impulse, I carefully touch her porcelain cheek. How is this girl so pale? "I know you. You will get upset if I tell you."

"I don't mind getting upset."

She never loses, this girl.

"I dreamt about before, when I was under my father's care. Every time I would lose, he would..do things, and they were never very nice. That's all."

That intense gaze is burning into me again, and although I know she's not some little girl, I fight it. I don't want to upset her, period. With all her empathy and compassion, if I told her what had happened and that it had happened because of her, I'd have a new tear-soaked shirt.

Suddenly there's a pressure on the side of my cheek, and slender arms wrapped around my shoulder like a vise. "I am so, so sorry."

Before I can ask her why, she's gone, and something in my chest twitches.


	3. Chapter 3

I still didn't understand how I'd gained the upper hand, but I had.

I'd been thrown into the situation face first, unaware that N had planned to spill something like that, and still came out victorious. I was beginning to think I was physically incapable of losing.

Not that I was complaining.

I shut the door to my room, my blood pumping from the adrenaline of what'd I'd just done. It was odd, because usually I only got pumped when I won a battle or when I entered a city for the first time.

And I got pumped up whenever N was around, but that didn't count. It was N, for crying out loud! The socially awkward boy with the tea green hair who didn't seem to comprehend anything ending in –action. Contraction. Social interaction.

Attraction.

I could feel the blood in my body rush to my face at the thought, and in my hurry to stop thinking about it, I crossed the room to my bed, where Liepard lay. I envied her. She just had to sit and look pretty all day, while I was stuck dealing with a socially awkward boy and a mother who refused to get involved. Didn't she understand that I'd never done this before? I'd never really had anything to do with boys. I was always one of them, too tomboyish to serve as anything other than someone to rough with. This whole champion thing was throwing my world of hilt: suddenly N was all over me, and so was every other boy in town, and suddenly the press wanted my opinion on everything, and Bianca and Cheren only had time for each other.

That was another thing. They'd completely wrapped themselves up in one another, and occasionally I saw them walking around town giggling. I wanted to retch, partially in betrayal, partially in disgust..

And maybe, just a tiny bit out of jealousy.

I didn't understand what gave them the right. We'd all three taken that first step on Route one together, hadn't we? Three, not two, goddamnit! I didn't realize my fists were clenching until Liepard let out a yelp at my grip. My anger faded like water had washed it away, and I immediately was spewing apologies. That was the thing with Pokemon. They made me calm, made me the relaxed person I'd made myself out to be. They made me want to be better, to make them happy. Sometimes I felt like it was my goal just to make sure they were happy. So when Team Plasma had accused me of making them unhappy with battling..well, it hadn't gone well.

Team Plasma. They'd dismembered not long after I defeated N by a single HP point, but I still got that chill every time I thought of them. They'd abused and used Pokemon, and it made me sick. Hell, they'd abused and used N, and somehow, that made me even sicker. Sadder, almost, although I didn't want to believe it. I still didn't want to believe I felt anything for him other than physical attraction. But that was difficult when I flinched at the idea of whips on his skin, on his bare back, his screams of agony. I'd seen the scars, although he thought I hadn't. His shirt had been his betrayer: it had ridden up while he was watching TV, and it had taken all of my strength not to cry out when I'd seen the secret beneath the fabric. I couldn't tell him I'd seen, of course. I might have been bad with boys, but I was good with people, and I knew that if he wanted to tell me then he would. Until then, I would have to placate myself with something else.

A few hours later, my embarrassment from my little display of affection had faded, and I crept out into the hall. It was dark downstairs, which meant everyone was hiding away in their rooms. Hilbert, my older brother with such an affection for danger you'd think it was candy, was still journeying the region. I peaked in his room as I went by, and it was the same. Untouched by anything but mom's careful hands as she tidied the room. She might not have been the most touchy-feely of mom's, but she did enough to make up for it.

Next door was the guest room, and I'd like to say that I hesitated before opening the door. But I'm not much of a liar, so I guess I'll just tell you that I pretty much barged in there.

N lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling like it held the secrets to the world. He gave no acknowledgement except a small smile, and I took that as a welcome as I closed the door behind me.

"S'alright?" I chewed my lip as I edged my way towards the bed, knowing that for him, nothing was alright. But I still asked, because although I'm a champion, I'm the most awkward one ever. You've probably already got that figured out, though.

Another smile, less vigorous than before. "It is." He rolled his neck, turned it so one ear was pressed to the covers and he was staring at me like _I _had all the answers. "I assume you are alright?"

I could lie. I could say I wasn't, and I could walk out and leave his strange speech and his admiring looks behind. But like I said, I'm not much of a liar.

"No, not really." My feet had a mind of their own, and suddenly I was plopping down on the bed and forcing a serious look on my face. I figured that I had to be some level of affectionate, so I pushed the stray hairs away from that wondering face of his before I spoke.

Except I didn't know what to say, and the silence dragged on painfully until I gave up and just gave in to what I wanted. I let my hand linger on his cheek, huffing a tiny laugh at his expression. "I just missed you, that's all."

That surprised him for about half a second before he was awkwardly patting my hand, trying so desperately to return to gesture. Poor guy. "I missed you as well. Which was why I came here looking for you. I did not think.." he trailed off, breaking my gaze, but I let him pause. He'd never really been around many humans before, much less a girl who liked him. I could relate.

"I did not think that the last page should have ended with me, flying away and leaving you in the ruins of the castle."

Damnit. This affection thing was supposed to be temporary.

But the words were like scissors, snipping the thing connecting my brain to my body, and my actions weren't my own anymore. I was sliding down, down, down, under the covers and up next to him, my back pressed into his front. There was nothing sexual about it, although I had expected as much. Nothing really lovey, either, although I definitely felt that usual twisted feeling in my chest that I was still getting used to. Friends or boyfriend/girlfriend or whatever we were, there wasn't a word to describe it. At least, not one I wanted to use. It started with an L, and I despised that word. I'd hated it since the day dad walked out on mom as she claimed that she had felt that word. I'd hated it since he'd walked out the door, not giving a damn about his son who was trying to keep it together, or his daughter, openly sobbing. I'd hated it, but as N wrapped an arm around me and muttered something in a language I didn't understand, I didn't really mind it. It was the first time I'd felt peaceful and safe.

And the next morning, as I rolled out of bed and left him curled up with a pillow that early morning, his eyelids twitching as he dreamt, I realized something. I realized that finally, finally, N got some shut-eye before one o'clock in the morning. And I decided that maybe this was just the medicine he needed.

Of course, I had never been good at running from anything, so as I tried to slip out quietly I managed to wake him. I didn't know how, although I guessed it was from when I cursed loudly after stubbing my big toe on the dresser.

I heard a quiet groan from the bed, and I watched as he rolled over and met my gaze. I expected panic, but instead he just looked at me like a lazy Snorlax. I smothered a giggle.

I also had to smother the urge to note how cute he look with his ponytail, forgotten and messy beyond repair. But pretend I didn't tell you that. Pretend I just crossed the room again, kneeling beside the bed and moving my fingers through his bed head, smiling softly. "Go back to sleep."

Another groan, and suddenly he was leaning into the touch like a Pokemon would. It was almost cute. "And sleep in? Surely that would be considered rude."

"If you're rude, I'm rude." He cocked an eyebrow at my response, and I hurriedly explained. "I sleep in all the time these days. Taking advantage of my time off, you know. Mom doesn't care. She just ends up leaving breakfast in the microwave instead of on the stove, so Liepard doesn't get it. You know how they are." I was rambling, and I ended my speech awkwardly, although he seemed more bemused than anything.

"Really." One word, and that bothered me. That was my thing.

"Mhm." There. That would show him.

A long, slender finger traced my apparently-piquant jaw as if it were made of marble. I spoke before he could. "Besides, my mom would kill you if she found me in here. Hilbert would too, if he was home."

"Hilbert?" Another raised eyebrow, expecting me to explain.

"My brother. He's still out, catching Pokemon and serving the Professor like a slave. I doubt he'll be home in time to kill you, though." I sighed, brushed his hair with my fingers once more before standing and turning to go.

"My mother, however, is right across the hall, and I have to at least make it look like I slept in my own bed." And I was gone, a little bit faster than necessary, cursing myself the whole way. I did not like N. Not in the slightest. It was just a fling disguised as friendship, that was all.

But the twitching feeling in my heart protested.


	4. Chapter 4

_The room was cold and moldy, too disgusting to even be considered a room. It more resembled a dungeon, and in a way, that was what it was. Liquid covered the floor, a mix of blood and tears and whatever else had been spilled in this wretched place. He held in his desire to retch as the stuff covered his feet and ankles, knowing that worse was to come if his father had his way._

_His father. Some said N resembled him, and the prisoners cowering in the endless cells were proof of that. It had confused him at first, but then he'd realized: they thought he was Ghetsis. It shouldn't have been surprising. He resembled his father down to the last detail, from his hair to the bridge of his nose. No traces of a mother he'd never gotten to meet, no proof of the existence of another parent. It bothered him, to say the least, but he'd never dared complain. Not when complaining meant punishment._

_The doors at the end of the hall creaked open, and N Harmonia was thrown into the room by the guards on either side of him like a discarded toy. He silently thanked Arceus that the floor was straw covered, but he only had a second to do that before he was hauled up by the grip on his bare forearm. The eyes that stared back at him were empty of love, of compassion, even while looking at it's own offspring. What should have been love was instead disappointment, and dread filled the air._

"_You disgust me." Down on the floor again, flung this time. He smothered a groan of pain as his bones creaked. He was almost eighteen; why was his father treating him like this? He was a King, even after all that had just occured. Kings should have been respected. Yet even as he asked himself why, he knew. His father had seen, desperate as he had been to hide it. His father had noticed his unwavering affection to the girl with the determined eyes, as subtle as he'd tried to be. His father had noticed his admiration of her as she fought with her captured dragon, white as snow. Maybe he'd even seen N's foolish idea of kissing Hilda, his abrupt storming off. Either way, N would be punished._

_The dream, or flashback, more like, shifted, and the boy was leaning over the stand, his hands gripping the ends as the whip dug into the tender flesh on his back. It didn't matter how much he pleaded for mercy. The cracks of the whip did not stop, and he gritted his teeth against the pain._

"_Don't you understand, boy?" He kept silent, too busy dealing with the slashes in his back to care. "She has dreams too. Fatal ones." The whip snapped again, with more vigor. "Dreams that will contest yours and destroy everything we have worked for. Stupid boy, don't you understand?!" Searing pain on his back, so much that he threatened to pass out. "She will kill us all!"_

_And N, renewed at the thought of Hilda, managed a few words before he gave into the darkness. "Perhaps that is not a bad thing."_

_The whip snapped again, and N felt himself falling._

"No!"

N sat up, sweat wetting his temples and his hands grasping at the sheets. It was a dream. Just a simple, meaningless dream. That was all. He drew in a couple of deep breaths, covering his face with his slender fingers. Just a dream. Vivid as it was, it was only that.

With that realization came another: someone else was in the room.

Someone who looked strikingly like Hilda, except he knew it wasn't Hilda because Hilda was not the type of girl to clean things. And said figure was doing just that as she scrubbed the top of the dresser vigorously, the crease between her brows making an appearance ever so often.

The woman of the house didn't even glance up as she spoke.

"Good morning, dear. Or good afternoon, I should say. Hilda's outside practicing, if you were wondering. You should probably get cleaned up before you go see her. You're not going to woo a woman with that bed head, you know."

He could feel the blood rush to his cheeks, but before he could stammer out a reply, she had moved on to another room.

He ended up following her orders eventually, running a brush through his hair and tying it back messily after he'd gotten dressed. Hilda's mother hadn't been far off when she'd mentioned the wooing thing, although he really wouldn't call it that. It was more of a desperate attempt to gain her affection that occasionally worked in his favor. But he'd try forever if he could just keep her out of the arms of another.

"Emolga, use Thunder!"

The squirrelly Pokemon didn't hesitate: sucking in a breath, electricity covered it and everything surrounding it, leaving the grass beneath its tiny feet charred. It only lasted a second, but it was enough to impress the brunette watching.

"My Arceus, you're getting better every day, Emolga." The smile that graced her face was unashamed, the arms that welcomed the Pokemon unabashed. "I'm so proud of you. Always have been, y'know."

The creature chirped happily in reply.

"Was especially proud when you took down N's Zekrom all by yourself." That wasn't true; Reshiram had done away with most of the other dragon's HP, and Emolga had only needed to Discharge the last point away, but Hilda pretended otherwise, if only for Emolga's pride. "I think we might not have beaten him or Ghetsis had it not been for you." Another chirp, and the trainer continued, lowering her voice to a mock-whisper. "Personally, I think N is just weak."

"I beg to differ." The voice, silky like a cat's, made her whirl and subsequently arch an eyebrow.

"What? You don't think Emolga's tough?" Said Pokemon, which had made a perch on Hilda's shoulder, puffed out his chest almost comically at that. She smothered a giggle.

N, once leaning against the wall but now deliberately drawing closer, had to fight the small smirk fighting its way onto his lips.

"No," he began, just inches away from her now. "I'm not weak."

She stuck her tongue out in response, dancing back away from him as she did so. "Whatever. You lose every time we battle."

He followed as she moved, letting her evade him even though he could have caught her if he wanted. "Only because you're incapable of losing."

She paused, pretending to think it over when really she was just fighting laughter. "Or maybe you're just prone to it."

That did it. The smirk broke free, and he was chasing her around the backyard, both of them laughing like maniacs. It took him a while, but he finally caught her, nearly tackling her in the process as they fell onto the grass. People stared, but Hilda was used to it. In fact, she wanted them to stare. She wanted them to be jealous because N belonged to her and none of the pretty floozy girls that lingered around the village. She might have been sick of the spotlight, but a little attention here and there didn't hurt.

He hovered over her triumphantly, panting from the chase. "I win."

She smiled delicately, her finger tapping his nose. "For once."

He huffed at that, brushing his own hair away from his face. He didn't need to do so with her, as her hair was perfectly tied back in a flawless ponytail. His, however, was less than. "You're just mad because you're as bad a runner as you are with words. When you go back to the Pokemon League, they'll have to give you cue cards to read off of."

And it was true. She was horrible at speaking, whether it be telling stories or making threats. When Ghetsis had cornered her that day, she had barely been able to stammer out a 'No.' And when N had flew away on Zekrom later on, she had barely been able to protest. She spoke more often nowadays, but that didn't mean she was skilled at it.

She frowned a bit, and her gaze went distant.

"What is it?" Three words and N wasn't hesitant about speaking them. If something was bothering her, she'd hesitate to voice it unless he encouraged her.

"There's something I need to tell you." Her gaze fled from his face as if ashamed, and went to her fingers that fiddled aimlessly with the buttons on his shirt. "I'm going to be leaving a bit..uh, early."

It felt like he'd swallowed a stone. "Why?" No, a stone wasn't accurate. It felt like Ghetsis all over again, like his father slapping him or the whips burning into his flesh. It felt like he was six again and his father was leaving him in the care of Pokemon again.

It felt like abandonment.

Thankfully, her gaze met his again. "I want to travel again. Staying at home isn't cutting it for me. And.."

"And?"

"And.." she paused a bit more before she spoke. "Alder has requested I get back into the public eye. Without you."

He felt like he'd been slapped. "Without me?"

She nodded slowly, purposely, as if she were speaking to a child. In a way, she kind of was, what with his innocent demeanor. A very, very good looking child with amazing kissing ability, but still a child in every way. "It's bad for my image, for me to be running around with the fallen Team Plasma King. People might start to assume things."

His emotions turned from 'please-don't-go' to 'how-dare-you' in an instant.

"Assume things?!" He sat up, rolling away from her embrace like she was poisonous. "Since when have you cared what the public eye sees?"

"Since I became the champion and defeated the King of Team Plasma, and since I saved millions of Pokemon from his reign of terror!"

Oh, now that had been the wrong thing to say.

"Wait, N, I didn't mean-" But he was already standing, too offended to really care about her apologies. Not being one to let something just walk away, she chased after him like a wild Pokemon, spewing apologies until he finally snapped.

"Is that what I am to you? Just someone planning to take over the world? Because that is not me. That is my fath-Ghetsis. If that is how you see things, though, then I think it is best I leave. Wouldn't want to humiliate you in front of your precious public." And he was gone, leaving her with her thoughts.

[]

[New chapter, guys! This took me a while, and I was stuck for a bit there, but today I suddenly got inspiration to finish the chapter. Hopefully it's not too horrible, haha. Enjoy!]

A tap on the door disturbed the silence of the night, and more importantly, disturbed N's packing. He didn't turn around, even as he heard the door squeak open and closed.

"Go away, Hilda."

"Actually, my name is Persephone."

He whirled at the voice, coming face to face with Mrs. Black herself. He expected anger, or retribution; after all, that was what most adults seemed to have a tendency for. But instead all he saw was pity.

"What do you want?"

She shrugged, mussing his hair as if he were her son and not a stranger. "Just to talk." She made herself comfortable, plopping down on the bed, although in technicalities she had the right to. It was her house.

"You remind me of my son, you know."

Okay, he hadn't expected that. But expectant or no, the words called him to sit down beside the woman.

"I do?"

"Yep. All quiet and careful, hidden away in a shell in every situation but ones that involve things you love. For Hilbert, it was Pokemon battles. For you..well, maybe it's Pokemon too, but from what I saw earlier, I think it's Hilda."

This woman had a tendency to make him blush. "You saw that?"

She nodded, her smile knowing. "Don't worry, I'm not mad. I'm happy that Hilda found someone that she can attach herself to. I was worried she would end up alone and I'd never get any grandchildren."

His usual response would have been shock, but after so long he was used to Mrs. Black's blunt manner. "Well, with the way things ended, I might have ruined your chances at that."

He felt an elbow nudge his side. "You can still fix things with her, you know."

"How?" The inquiry lingered in the air.

"If I know anyone, I know my daughter. She puts up that false toughness and tries to act like she doesn't feel, but in reality she cares. You just need to push past the bravado to see it."

N nodded once, pausing before heading for the door. "I understand."

His hand touched the knob before he thought of something. "And, Mrs. Black?"

"Yes dear?"

"T-thank you. I've never, er, had a mother figure before." He didn't know why he said that.

"Anytime, dear, anytime."

[]

"Hilda?" Another knock, but this time it was his own hand disturbing the silence.

"Go away!"

He sighed, leaning his head against the door. "I would like to talk to you."

"Well, I don't want to talk to you." Her voice was closer now, and he got the feeling that she was as close to the door as he was.

"Please?" he paused. No answer. "If you leave before I can say goodbye, I'd hate myself forever."

The click of an unlocked door sounded through the air, and before he knew it she was pulling him into the room.

He expected a slap. What he didn't expect was a pair of arms to wrap around his neck like a vise, and for a weeping girl to wrap herself on him like a Serperior.

"P-pl-ea-a-se d-o-o-n't-t b-e m-mad-d a-at m-m-m-" she could barely get the words out, she was crying so hard. Arceus, why was she crying so hard?

"Hey, hey, it's okay. I know you didn't mean it." His arms slid around her, wrapping her up so tight that she couldn't move if she tried. He hadn't felt more compassion towards her since Ghetsis had cornered her into a battle.

"B-but I-I d-d-didn't-"

"Shh. It's fine, I know. I know."

She'd eventually calmed down a few hours later, when he'd released her from his embrace and she'd covered the room in tissues. Now they sat in silence, and he left it to her to break it.

"I still have to go."

"I know."

"Public eye be damned. You're coming with me." _You are,_ not, _you can._

"And what about Adler?"

"Adler be damned, too."

For the second time that day, he tackled her. But it was for the first time that day when he kissed her like he was suffocating and she was oxygen.

In a way, that was true.


	5. Chapter 5

[A/n: sorry for the late update, guys! I gave the chapter some extra awkward-N as an apology. :3 he's so out of character in this story, i don't know what i'm doing here. i'll probably be making a new story with math nerd N since he's more canon. I'll still be keeping this one, though, so no worries. c:]

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

The searing kiss from weeks ago burned in the brunette's mind as she answered his question. "I wouldn't have come this far if I didn't."

The solid gold building that was the exterior of the champion's room loomed over the pair as they spoke, regal and threatening in all its glory despite Hilda owning it. She knew Alder waited for her inside, and that in itself was not worrying. What was concerning was the fact that the fiery-haired ex-champion was unaware that Hilda was coming back with an escort.

Said escort leaned over her as she thought, inches away from her face. She knew there was nothing romantic about it; he'd never been good with personal space, after all. Yet she still had to fight the urge to throw her arms around his neck and let him spin her around with the ease that he always did. She wanted to squeal into his neck at the shock of it, and to hear him laugh like it was just the funniest thing in the world to see her frightened. She wanted to make a snappy remark about how stupid he could be sometimes, and she wanted him to give her _that _look that said 'whatever you say, Hilda.' N gave her that look a lot, it seemed, but she had never wanted it more than right now. It would have been much easier to deal with that than what lay ahead.

Unfortunately, Hilda's life had never been easy, so she settled for brushing her fingers through N's long hair. She'd cut it in order to make him look more professional for Alder, ["No need for you to look like a wanted criminal in front of my boss," she'd scolded him as the scissors snipped the mane away] but it seemed that the stuff had grown right back in mere days. She huffed aloud as she twirled it around her fingers, partially in frustration and partially because although she liked his hair long, she didn't need any more difficulties at this point.

The smile he gave her was small and amused and yet almost...forced. Was he as nervous as she was?

She supposed he had the right to be. After all, not only Alder awaited them; half the region did also. It was an honor to receive Unova's sweetheart as she came back to her post as champion, and tickets to do so had been bought out in days. Hilda could hear the diplomats and aristocrats even from outside, mingling and talking as they awaited their guest of honor. Without doubt, all of them had hated Team Plasma while it had existed. What would they do when the king of it all entered the room with the champion on his arm? Riot, perhaps? She could see it now: the people gasping, rushing forward to attack like rabid pokemon, blood, blood, green hair and red blood mingling like Christmas colors and-

N's fingers on her cheek shook her from her panic.

"They're going to love you. They'll hate me, but they'll absolutely love you." It was an attempt at a joke, N's attempt, but she didn't laugh. His joking grin that resembled more of a grimace faded, and he opened his mouth to say something that would probably be ridiculously cheesy [After all, he'd learned everything about women from the television] when Audino interrupted.

"_Dino_!" The pink Pokemon that was known for being the doctor of Hilda's team tugged his trainer's free hand, pulling her towards the entrance to the building. Emolga, Serperior, Absol, Audino, and Buizel gathered in front of the couple, giddy with excitement. For a moment, the brunette was jealous; the only emotion she was capable of was unshakeable fear.

She couldn't help side glancing at her escort just before the doors opened, and was surprised to find his expression anything but afraid. He was almost majestic in the way he held himself, but that only lasted a second before he caught her looking in what was probably dorky awe or something. She shouldn't have been surprised. He'd been a king once, and he'd probably done this kind of thing millions of times.

She thought she saw him smirk before a pressure was on her mouth in what she assumed was a good luck kiss. Before she could respond, he pulled away, and she nearly sulked as the massive doors were pulled, her nervousness forgotten. Maybe that had been his intention.

"Presenting the Champion and her five Pokemon: Serperior, Emolga, Absol, Buizel, and Audino!" The announcers voice boomed in her ears as her team entered, surprisingly well behaved. She made a note to treat them before she entered and was nearly deafened by the sudden silence.

Before, the people had been cooing and cheering over the team that had beaten the Elite four and Alder. Cameras had snapped and congratulatory hollering had filled the air. Whenever Hilda had entered, however, the room had gone quiet, deadly. No one cheered as she walked to the platform; instead, they whispered and pointed at N, who was unreadable at this point. He might as well have been made of stone. And Alder...well, she didn't dare look at Alder until she stood by his side on the platform that overlooked the crowd, and when she did, she immediately regretted it.

His emotion was remnant of that of a disappointed father's, and she nearly flinched. Nearly. If she knew anything about flinching, she knew that it lost you your turn to fight in a battle, and with that in mind, she mumbled under her breath where only Alder could hear:

"You will present him as my date. If you say one bad thing about him, I'll make sure you regret it. Understand?"

A curt nod, and then the fiery-haired individual spoke, his grin wide and fake as a Purrloin's sweetness. He spread his arms as he addressed the crowd, his whole being welcoming and warm.

"Beloved guests! We thank you for your presence here, and we ask for your consideration as we handle this…er, situation. Please, help yourself to the snack tables in the other room as you wait. The dancing will be held later on." The scandal forgotten, the people moved to the other room, gossiping loudly as they went. The public eye gone and unseeing, Alder whirled on the two.

"Do you have any idea what you've done?!" His voice was an angry whisper despite the room being empty. No, anger was the wrong word. Furious would have better described it, and as she noted his tone she couldn't help but feel as if he'd slapped her. She released her grip on N's arm, suddenly furious as well despite being at fault, and stood on her tiptoes to get into the older man's face. How dare he talk to her like that? After all that she'd accomplished?

"Weren't you the one who believed in N redeeming himself?" she snapped, eyes blazing despite said man plucking at her arm, begging her to stop while she was still in Alder's good graces. She didn't care. He might have been timid in the face of conflict, but she was certainly not about to be. Behind her, she could hear her Pokemon emitting low growls, confused but not afraid to protect their trainer in any circumstance. And despite all of it, she carried on. "What better way to do that then to have the champion by his side? What better ways for him to redeem himself than to have the leader of the region forgive him?"

"And what if I do not?"

"You are not the champion. It is not your forgiveness he needs." Their voices had raised to yells at this point, but the two were apathetic about who heard the argument. "Reshiram chose me. Not you, but me. And unless you'd like me to show you why, I think you should back the hell off."

Silence.

Alder coughed, his expression an empty mask.

"Fine. But remember that not everyone is looking out for your best interests, Hilda. Some people would be very happy to have you take a disastrous fall down a couple flights of stairs." In an instant, he was gone, and she was left alone with the cause of all her problems.

She sighed, burying her face in her hands, and for a fleeting instance, Hilda doubted.

Was N really worth all this trouble?

As a pair of arms snaked carefully around her waist, like they were diffusing a bomb, she thought yes, of course he was. He was not just someone she loved. He was her friend, one of her best friends, and with that thought in her mind she buried her face in his chest and hid.

"They hate me, N."

"Shhh, no, they don't. They're just surprised, that's all."

"Alder will make them hate me."

"He tries, and you'll tear his world down before he can say a word."

She stifled a laugh. "You think so?"

"I know so. You defeated me and…my _father_ without stopping for breath. You defeated the entire elite four and the champion without using a single potion. What's one man?"

"You know very well what one man can do."

She felt him tense beside her, inhaling a sharp breath. It was a couple of moments before he replied, and she was surprised at his calm manner as he pulled away.

"I suppose I do. Shall we go join the others?" N offered his arm, the other folded neatly behind his back, and Hilda got the impression that he'd been practicing. She fought back a giggle at the image of her mother attempting to teach N how to be chivalrous, and allowed him to lead her into the other room.

[]

The ceremony of Hilda's return was not nearly as bad as the green haired thought it would be. Plenty had side-eyed N, especially when he'd been the one that Hilda had danced with all night, but eventually he fit in well with the other partiers. The only difference was that he hadn't dared even touch the alcohol. He'd never gotten drunk before, and as he glanced around at the others, he didn't think that he would like to.

Hilda had vastly different views.

"S-s-so, I was sh'like, no, you can't have my lasht revive.." He could hear her voice from across the room, loud and so obviously intoxicated as she told a story to the people surrounding her. Judging by the uproarious laugh, N judged that they, too, had had one too many of the frilly purple drinks sitting on seemingly every table. He didn't hesitate; he was shoving through the crowd in a moment, muttering apologies even though the people he said them to might as well have been deaf. He gripped Hilda's arm, tugging at it to get her attention.

"You're drunk."

She merely giggled, her voice higher and girlier than usual. "Then take me home, lover boy." She outstretched her arms from her chair as the crowd surrounding her let out suggestive whoops and chuckles at her invitation

The words surprised him, and as he lifted her to take her back to the Pokemon center, he decided that no, he certainly did not want to drink. If it could make even the less than sentimental Hilda call him lover boy…he dreaded thinking the effect it could have on him.

He tucked her carefully into her bed that night, glad that she'd passed out in his arms as soon as he'd entered the Pokemon center. It saved him a lot of disapproving looks from the nurses working there, thinking he was a strange man taking advantage of a drunken girl. And he was certainly not that. Hell, he wouldn't even know _how_ to take advantage of someone. Sex was certainly not something he was educated in, and although kissing was easy to learn, he wasn't sure that he'd ever really figure out why people did…other stuff. The abused Pokemon he'd grown up with had never really served as anything other than playmates, and certainly not sex ed teachers.

He shuddered. Why was he thinking about this anyway? He was with Hilda, for crying out loud. And as much as he loved her, he didn't want to think about her that way. Even when he'd kissed her back in Nuvema town and he'd felt that strangeness that made him want inexplicable things, he had been partially glad that she'd stopped him despite his disappointment. He probably would have made a fool of himself. That seemed to be the only thing he was skilled at, making a fool of himself, besides Math and Pokemon. Math was a series of equations, and Pokemon were partners to work with, but women? That was a whole new ball field.

The small hand on his arm tore him from his thoughts and made him turn back to the bed. "Heyyy, N?" Her voice was a mix of too much to drink and exhaustion, but it was still her voice, and he was automatically inclined to answer her.

"Mm?"

"What's your real name?" Her words were suddenly clear, and he swallowed in nervousness as he attempted to dismiss the question.

"My name is N, and you've had too much liquor."

She frowned, her lower lip jutting out like a child's. "N isn't a name. It's a letter."

He sighed, deciding that it wouldn't matter if he told her. She would probably forget in the morning anyway.

"My name is Natural. Natural Gropius Harmonia." He paused. "Ghetsis used to call me my full name whenever he would get angry with me. I like N better, to be honest. Sounds less alien."

He had expected her to snort and take it in stride. He hadn't expected, however, a very small voice to answer him. "Was that what the nightmares were about? Him…getting angry with you?"

He hesitated, and he almost flinched at the memory of a whip cutting down on his skin. "Yes."

The grip on his arm moved lower, down to where his hand was before giving a light squeeze. "I'm so sorry."

He frowned, suddenly uncomfortable with talking about what things had been like before. "That's alright. Good night, Hilda." He made for the door, done with talking about his father and the past that haunted him.

"Good night. And..N?"

N paused, his hand on the door. "Yes?"

"I will never, ever let anyone hurt you. I promise."

He supposed he should have felt weak, being told that by a girl, but instead he almost believed that maybe he wasn't so alien after all.


	6. Chapter 6

~ a!n: so there's basically smut in this one...prepare yourself, terrible smut is coming ~

[]

"This is completely unacceptable." The gym leader's voice is booming, vicious in all it's might. She suppresses the urge to flinch.

N is not present, but he doesn't need to be. She is the champion; she can be strong all on her own.

"I think I get to deem what's acceptable and what's not." Not think: knows. She knows she's being a tyrant, knows she exercising her power in ways that none has ever before, but she can't bring herself to care.

It's not just about N. It's about the suppression, the constant push to be perfect and shameless and Unova's sweetheart. And that would be fine; it's not like she doesn't want that, to be a perfect girly girl. Lord knows she went around wearing pink for years for a reason. No, the problem lies in the fact that that is simply not Hilda, not at all, and she's quite through with trying to pretend it is.

Her words cause a ripple through those seated at the round table, called for a meeting by Alder. Every gym leader in Unova and all of their apprentices have made themselves present at the league, but only the former dare seat themselves around the table like Arthur's Knights. Their sympathies are clearly drawn; the majority side with Alder despite their love of Hilda, and though she can't blame them, her chest throbs with the feeling of a dagger driven into it.

The only one siding with her eyes the brunette with crisp blue eyes, snapping her bubble gum as she twists a braid around her slim finger. Elisa has never been one to speak too much – she lets her face do the talking.

"He is a wanted criminal. Your protection or no, he's going to be arrested, and it's in your best interest to simply allow that to happen." Alder's words are soft, and if she were the same girl from the past then she might believe them. "Please, Hilda. Do not make this anymore difficult than it has to be."

She pauses a moment, considering it. Although it's not all about N, it's partially about him, and she tries to imagine the future she would have if she turned him in.

No warm weight next to her in the night. No one to fight the covers for at one in the morning. No one to spin her around and hold her tight after a particularly successful day. No pressure on her mouth, sweet and gentle and so desirous of her but so terribly unsure. No one to press her up against the wall, to fill her up with wanting and love and the most sinful of urges to take him in all his innocence and show him the way. No one to whisper in her ear. No one to make her laugh at the most inappropriate moments. Maybe she would turn in the old N, the one she met at the beginning of her journey, but he has grown so much since then. He has become so social, has grown out of his shell, and to throw that away would be similar to throwing away a particularly tricky essay after spending weeks on it.

It only takes her a moment to reject the vision, and before she knows it she's looking them all directly in the eye. It's like they've forgotten that she is not their precious little teacup; she has challenged them all and won, has been challenged by the elite four several times over and walked away without a drop of sweat on her thick brows. She has traveled the deserts and seas and has made a lover out of a king, has beaten that king's father into the dust with her power simply for tearing her king down psychologically. She is a queen in her own right, without all the fancy dresses and crowns. Her crown is her hat, her scepter her Pokemon, and it seems they've forgotten this in the midst of her absence. If they think they can control her, then yes, there is no doubt they have forgotten, and she feels the overwhelming urge to remind them.

"I will make it difficult. I'll fight you every inch of the way, Alder. I'll fight you even when you're dragging him away in chains, and I'll fight you even when he's behind bars. And do you know something?" She's addressing them all now, even Elisa, who looks particularly proud as her champion stands above them all.

She leans into Alder's ear, her voice a whisper.

"I never, ever lose."

With the dramatic flair that she picked up from Rosa, she practically struts out, leaving them all open mouthed.

As she closes the door behind her, she hears the entire room erupt into shouts, and she walks away smiling.

[]

"So you convinced them, then?"

N's voice is a life raft in the rushing water, and she tightens her arms around his neck as she leans into him, adjusting herself on his lap. She clears her throat once, twice, and when she speaks her tone is almost sheepish.

"Well, not exactly…"

The look he gives her reminds her that he's hot when he raises his eyebrows.

"Okay, so I didn't. But I told them all off, if it makes you feel better."

He sighs, as if he knows how to play this game of politics and she's a terrible amateur, and she supposes he does. He's been trained in it all his life, trained how to handle his destiny with the crown, and Hilda's political intelligence goes as far as playing a game of monopoly with Cheren and Bianca can take her.

"Telling them off, as you say, does nothing." He takes on an alien tone, and she's reminded that as far as he's gone, he has yet to learn the slang of the modern world. It's like he was raised in Tudor times or something. "You have to take action to prove that there is weight behind your words, or they will never take you seriously." He touches her lip when she pouts. "Not that they don't already."

The look she gives him is remnant of the first night, and his jeans are suddenly terribly, terribly small.

She notices. Her smile, not a stranger to him, is victorious as she leans up to press her mouth against his, the people in the Pokemon center lobby that stare be damned. Her hand grips the back of his neck forcefully, pulling him closer like the space between them is unwelcome. She feels a pair of arms gently tugging at the clothes on her back, although it's certainly not for the reason she wants. It's not the tug of "goddamn woman take your clothes off right now and never put them back on," which she really wouldn't mind doing despite the fact that their in public [she's done worse things,] but the tug of "I seriously want you right now but there's more important matters at hand."

This doesn't stop her from taking her sweet time pulling away, of course, leaving her legs wrapped around him like a Serperior and arms coiled around the back of his throat. When he leans in again, she's tempted to tug him up into the room, plotting be damned, but his kiss is so thoroughly chaste and stern that she is forced to settle with her current position. Her thoughts travel, and she almost laughs at the fact that not twenty minutes earlier, she was calling herself a queen; right now she is nothing more than a young teenager in love, hormones running amuck. If N notices, he doesn't say a thing.

"Now, as I was saying. Your best bet would be to..."

She almost groans at the educational tone he takes on. This would be a long night.

[]

When she wakes the next morning, bird Pokemon chirping outside the window, she tries to make sense of the situation. She is still in his lap, but instead of being in the Pokecenter lobby, they are seated at the desk in the rented bedroom. There's only one chair, which explains why her legs are on either side of him and her arms are wrapped forcefully around his waist. However, it doesn't explain why they fell asleep here, or why there's a rather timid banging on the door. She rubs the crust out of her eyes, and in doing so feels N stirring under her.

"Mnh? Wha' happenin'?" The lack of perfect speech, ruined by a thick tongue and morning mouth grossness, makes her giggle, and she slides of his lap and stumbles towards the door.

"Nurse Joy, I think. Probably telling us to get our lazy bones up." He nods at her imitation of the woman, satisfied as he makes to move to the bed.

"Did we fall asleep practicing your speech or somethin'?" His usual posh tone is raggled by sleep, and she smothers laughter.

"Probably. Either that or we decided that a swivel chair was more comfortable than a bed." He snorts drowsily at her joke, and in a moment he's snoring again, wrapped up in the sheets. She fights the longing to join him, to wrap him up in her arms or vice versa, and instead does what she got out of his lap for.

When she opens the door, adrenaline shoots through her veins.

"I-I'm so sorry, Mrs. White, t-th-they told me they would hurt Mr. H-H-Harmonia.." The candy floss haired woman bursts into tears, and Elisa pushes past her with little to no sympathy. Her body guards remain readily by the door.

"It's fine, Nurse Joy, rea-" The door swings shut, cutting her sentence in half. By the time Hilda has opened her mouth to speak, Elisa has beat her to it.

"I came to warn you." Her eyes fall on N, who stirred awake at the slam of the door. Hilda watches as the other takes in her – boyfriend's? – appearance, and she feels a pang of jealousy in her gut.

It disperses when Elisa laughs at him.

"So, this is the boy you fight for." She steps closer to the bed, and N, bless his heart, does not move. He is a statue, his face unreadable, and Hilda is for once grateful for his unwavering seriousness. "She has fought a good deal for you, you know. She stood up to all of us at the council meeting." She turns back to him, arching one perfect brow. "I do hope you're thanking her adequately."

Hilda doesn't know what it is that gives it away, but something in the way she says adequately makes her cheeks heat. N is less than amused, fearless in the face of the gym leader. Sometimes it's easy to forget that N defeated the Unova gym leaders as well, but as she watches the scene, Hilda remembers.

"Warn us about what?" Thank Arceus for his directness.

The model almost seems to pout before she begins. "Alder is coming to arrest you." At the word you, she looks dead at N.

If he's surprised, he doesn't show it.

"How long?"

"About an hour. He's gathering up evidence as we speak. He told the gym leaders not long ago, and I thought I should give you a fair start." She leans back like she's just played a particularly good move in chess, and for a fleeting moment, Hilda remembers learning to play the game with N back when they were still flirtatious and unaware of the future ahead.

"_This is the queen." His words were affectionate as he held up the piece, and she smiled innocently, the meaning of the words not escaping her. "She protects the king."_

"_Does she?" Another smile, more coy._

_For once, N's lips turned up to match. "Yes. She protects him very, very well."_

"Hilda?"

She visibly jolts from the memory, glancing at the other two occupying the room. "Yeah?"

"When do you want to leave?" N this time. "Sooner rather than later would be more beneficial. Either way, we cannot stay here. For your safety and mine, it is best we leave the region."

He says it so casually, like a comment on the weather. She swallows, picturing her family, her brother. He would be home now, waiting for her to return with that new ball and chain of a boyfriend. She opens her mouth to protest, ends up saying something completely different. "Where would we go?"

He is cold, unaffected. Focused. Mathematical in his thinking; she can practically hear him running numbers through his head. She knows him, knows he thinks everything in percent and fraction and probability. Knows that because of this, he's dependable. They're achingly different in this; he can do calculus in seconds, while she'll sometimes have to ask him what nine times twelve is. It's a good match in the way that the sun and the moon are a good couple. "I have colleagues in Hoenn, from when Looker was searching for me. We could stay with them until-"

"No."

The two look at the brunette, surprised.

"I can't-my mom, Hilbert, Cheren, Bianca, my Pokemon.." she lists off her responsibilities, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights.

"Your Pokemon would accompany us, obviously. The others stay, unfortunately.." he watches carefully as he trails off, waiting for her to burst into flame with the famous White temper.

"I'm staying."

He is terribly good at hiding his surprise.

"Well, I'll be heading out before this gets ugly." Elisa stands with enviable grace, waggling her fingers at the two before Hilda can beg her to stay. "Ta-ta!"

The door slams.

Silence.

Surprisingly, N is the one to break it.

"I have to go. It's that or be locked in a cage, possibly executed." He draws in a measured breath, his legs hanging off the side of the bed as he turns. "I am going whether you do or not."

"Okay." The word rips her chest open as it leaves her mouth, and when she glances up, she notices that his mask is gone. His mouth is open slightly in surprise, and his eyes are wide like a puppy's.

"You can go to Hoenn. I'm staying here with my family."

The words are final, and she feels like someone has hollowed her out and filled her up with lead. Not crying, of course. Crying is impossible these days. She is simply numb, unable to open up and sob because it is so unbecoming of her. He'd understand, but she doesn't care, and neither do her tear ducts.

"I see." His words are careful, precise, and yet on the last word his voice breaks.

It is not like they have not been separated before. She remembers life without him, and she is sure she can go through with it. There is simply the issue of the fact that now, she is much deeper in the situation than she was before, and going through daily routine would be…difficult, to say the least.

She is reminded of the vision she conjured at the meeting. No warm weight in the night, no arm around her waist, awkwardly tugging her closer. No breath on her neck. No extreme proximity to one another, no kisses, nothing. Simply the empty feeling and the search for green hair in a crowd.

In a moment, she is running across the room and flying into his arms, throwing him back onto the bed in the process. She is blubbering words before she even realizes.

"PleaseI'mgoingtomissyousomuchstaystaypleasestayIl oveyouplease-" The stream of words goes on, and all the while he doesn't tell her to shut up, amazingly. He simply brings her closer, rubbing her back and stroking her hair occasionally and shushing her. He does not kiss her. He does not force her. Maybe he enjoys seeing her in pain, she thinks, and she draws back. This is not becoming for a champion either, but then again, she cannot always be a champion. Sometimes all she can be is a girl with extreme empathy and too much compassion to be healthy.

"You don't have to leave." These words actually have space between them, and she would be proud if she could feel something.

Long fingers on her cheek, tracing the bones in her face like it's a classic sculpture.

"I do. You know it, too."

Of course she knows it, but she's tired of people leaving, tired of having her trust broken. It's not like it's his fault, of course, but it doesn't make it any better.

"I-" The words are stuck in her throat, and his fingers find her neck, tracing the veins.

"I know."

She frowns. He knows? That is no way to answer an admission like that, or at least, the 1/3 of an admission that she has just given.

"Excuse me?" She draws back, slapping his hand away and sitting up.

He follows her example. "It's rather obvious. I mean, with the way you have behaved, I would have to be stupid to have not seen it."

He would have done better slapping her across the face.

"Go."

"What?"

"Go. Go to Hoenn. I am obviously just another science experiment to you." She goes to pack her things, picking them out of the mix of clothes all over the floor and throwing them into her suitcase without any ceremony.

"Hilda-"

She throws the last of her clothes in, goes to find her bottles of shampoo and conditioner in the bathroom. She comes out successful, throwing him a sharp look as he moves to help her. "I don't need you to help me pack. I'm not five."

"No, but you might as well be." He reaches for the shampoo in her hand, and in a show of defiance, she flings it into the bag.

Of course, with her luck, the worst happens: the lid pops, and she is covered in pink goo before she can blink.

"Ugh!" She storms away, presumably to take a shower, and N follows like a lost dog.

"You are very articulate."

"Shut up!" But she can't help a smile when he's not looking, forcing herself to hold in her laughter, reminding herself of the terrible rage she feels towards him.

She is angry. She is angry.

"Would you like me to help you?"

Suddenly, it's not so difficult anymore.

"What, undress?" She whirls on him, away from the running water, taking any excuse to be mad. "You want to see me naked or something, pervert?!" In any other situation, she would have flirtatiously smiled and taken the invitation, encouraging his forwardness. But this was not any other situation.

"I was simply-"

"Get out!" In an instant, she is shoving him, but he doesn't budge. "Get the hell out! I hate you! Get out!"

He is waiting for her to stop, she thinks, and when she doesn't he grips her arms and forces her still.

"You cannot have hate without love," he tells her, something he presumably learned from one of his tutors, and suddenly she's kissing him. It's not like the others, which were slow and learning and inexperienced. This is passionate, heart breakingly so, and as he slips her tongue into her mouth she stops caring about the shampoo coating that she's got going on and more about the fact that she's seconds from tears.

As it turns out, he helps her undress after all.

He tugs lightly on her shirt, and she nearly slaps him for asking permission before she's going above and beyond and pulling her bra off too, if only to prevent the awkward fumbling that will be sure to follow. His shirt is gone when she presses herself up against him again, which is progress, but not enough, and soon enough they're both bare and shivering and when she grabs him by the throat to pull him into the shower, soaking them both, he doesn't protest.

She's not about to do him any favors; she's mad as hell, so when she leans against the wall she shoves him to his knees mercilessly. Of course, he's obedient, eager to make her happy again, but she still gasps when he delves his tongue into her, and her hands palm his locks. "N, N, oh god, N, please-" She doesn't know what she's begging for until he sucks on her clit and she moans his name loud enough for anyone walking past to hear, and she feels herself let go and he's lapping it up oh god-

Before she knows it, he's up again, shoving her up against the wall, insecurities be damned. She gets the guts to look at his face, and she finds herself surprised when she sees his eyes glazed over with heat. She's not one for random profanity, but…fuck.

And that's exactly what he does

It's not sweet. It's not romantic. Halfway through he remembers he doesn't know where to put it and she has to direct him with what little carnal knowledge she has. Luckily he's a fast learner and soon enough he's fucking her against the fiberglass wall of the shower and she's tangling her fingers in his hair and saying his name and moaning for more and thank Arceus for him because he gives, gives, gives. He's moving up into her and it's so good, it's better than the kissing on the wall, and she tries to tell him but all that comes out is a ragged breath and a long, drawn out: "Please, N, oh god please just like that oh-" His breath is hot in her ear, whispering her name like a prayer, and she runs her fingernails down his back, across the scars from the whips, and he actually growls. She didn't think he was capable of doing this kind of thing, of being a man and saying dirty things and even doing them, but when he heatedly talks into her ear and whispers "God, you're tight," she wants that release so badly that she'd kill.

He was right. There is no weight behind the words unless you follow through, and he follows the rule dutifully. When he says he'll fuck her, he does. When he says he wants her, he proves it. She digs her fingers into the scars again at his obedience, and the near snarl that leaves his mouth makes her laugh devilishly.

It's not love. It's not hate. It's lust, and when he fills her up again she understands why it's a sin. And she doesn't give a damn, wants to prove that she doesn't, so when he stops whispering bad things into her ear for a moment she starts to beg, her sentences incomplete. "H-harder, N, I need it, please N ple-fuck!" she cries out when he listens, when he gives and sends electricity through her, and she thinks for a moment that he's laughing at her.

But he's not. Instead, he's laying kisses down her neck despite the roughness of everything and she hates it, shoves him down on the floor of the shower and takes control, his groans in her ears. She doesn't care that he probably feels weak. She wants it, and she wants it her way, so when he fights to get up she shoves him down, moving against him forcefully. He says her name like a warning now and she's right there with him, biting her lip and he thrusts up into her, feral like a wild animal, like a wolf ready to eat, oh-

She sees supernovas behind her eyes, hears him cry out, and then it's over.

She remembers to praise him, and as a last thought she mouths against his chest, his neck, his chin, coming up to his lips and smiling through the contact. Her breath is labored, but she still musters enough strength to push up against him, kiss him hard enough to bruise.

She's pissed as hell, of course, but that definitely put the odds in his favor.

[]

"Wow."

They're curled up in the bed, toweled off and packed, ready to leave the Pokecenter on a moment's notice. She spoke first, her arm around his torso and one slender leg thrown over his. When she speaks, he glances down, playing mindlessly with her hair, nodding his agreement. Of course, the first time had been memorable, but then Hilda had insisted they do it again just to be sure, and he hadn't protested.

"I'm still leaving." The words don't hurt her.

"When do you think you'll come back?"

"It depends. How long will they search for me?"

"A year, maybe two."

"Then I'll be gone a couple of years."

She raises up, resting her chin on his chest.

"And you won't find some pretty blonde thing in that time?"

He grins. "I'm more into redheads…ow!" He can't help but picture the future hand-shaped bruise on his chest from the attack.

"Something to remember me by. A good reminder, I think." She squeals as he rolls her over, leaning over her like a pouncing Liepard.

"And there is always the shower incident if I forget." She smacks him again, on the face this time, pausing to kiss him hungrily before speaking again.

"Stop calling it an incident. It wasn't an accident. Besides," she notes, thumbing the neck of his jacket and pressing her lips to his face in between the words. She's savoring it; lord knows they'll be lucky to even see each other again. He must be savoring it too, because when she catches his mouth again, he responds eagerly, their mouths melding like they really are the sun and the moon, embodied and meant to be together. "You were willing."

He smirks, kissing her cheeks, her eyes, and lastly, lingeringly, her mouth. "Very."

The shower wasn't sweet. This, however, is, and it lasts for a couple more seconds before there's a loud banging on the door and it's over for N and Hilda as a couple. It's time for N to be the criminal, the wanted king, and for Hilda to be the determined trainer, the champion. She swears she hears N sigh as he pulls away from the last kiss that screams for more, more, more. She tries to make it into goodbye, but all she can do is fight the urge to grab at him as he makes to escape out the window.

Alder is here, and that means the end, as well. Unfortunately for him, the King and the Trainer are prepared.

~ a!n: so I wrote smut, and I feel dirty.

Nah, just kidding, it was fun. I've never had written smut before, but I tried, so don't judge me. Maybe it's uncharacteristic for N to know how to be hot, idek. Feel free to tell me how bad it was, I understand. At this point N is so ooc I'm thinking about making it AU. Not even joking.

Also, cliffhanger! Are you looking forward to it? I am. I don't even know what's going to happen yet. This is on the verge of becoming porn with a plot though, honestly.

R&R, lovelies! ~


	7. Chapter 7

~ a!n: usually I wait a little bit longer to post chapters, so that each one is plotted out and this doesn't turn into one of those 20 chapter things, but since I got such cute reviews from you guys [he's leaving for his own safety gosh you guys] I figured I'd get started a little early. As it turns out, I actually got done rather quickly, so enjoy, lovelies! ~

The waiting is torture.

She knows there are worse positions to be in; whips on her flesh, grueling work hours, no Pokemon. There are much worse sorrows, sure.

She is still miserable either way.

The day, that morning, replays in her mind every time she closes her eyes, and so she does not sleep.

"_Let us in, Hilda!"_

_N gives her a last look before beginning his descent down the fire escape._

"_No!"_

_A loud crash as the door breaks down and guards rush in, grabbing her arms, her feet, ripping the place apart in their search for him-_

It is only when she sees her family giving her weird looks from around the dinner table that she realizes she is clutching her head tightly, her fingers mussing her precisely done hair style. In a rush, she straightens and grabs for her fork, spearing a piece of macaroni like it hadn't happened.

They say nothing.

Not at the dinner table.

Not the next day.

Not the next week.

Not the next month.

And neither does she.

She begins her re-descent into silence, limiting her vocabulary to "okay" and "no thank you" as time goes on. She is still numb. She does not feel.

She is not glad when Alder decides to set her free of his custody, realizing that she will never speak of N's whereabouts.

She is not disappointed when the house phone rings and it's just Bianca.

She is not jealous when Cheren sneaks the blonde of the trio a kiss during movie night.

If anyone is concerned, they don't show it.

The only one who tries is Hilbert. He is constantly prodding, poking like a confused Pokemon, wondering where his sister went. He probably wants to ask if she's still in there.

She wants to tell him she's not, but all that comes out is "Hilbert."

She doesn't know why she always says his name. Maybe it's because he always gives her a look that reminds her that they were once happy.

Eventually, eventually, ever slowly, she realizes that it has only been a year. She is only half way done.

She slowly comes back out of her shell.

She begins to go to the Safari Zone with the others more often. She roughs with her brother on occasion. At dinner, she begins to smile again. She even meets a boy on Route Eight who makes her laugh. His Pokemon dislike hers, but perhaps that's because they are always neck and neck in battle.

They spend days just walking. Not talking, because Hilda has reverted to her old self and her old self barely speaks more than a sentence a day. Actually, the not talking part is a lie, because he does the talking. He tells her about his day, and the funny things, and she lets out breathy laughs when she can tell he wants her to. He is her refuge when Cheren and Bianca cannot, or will not, be. He has extreme opinions, weird ones; he believes that sanity is subjective and that music is the most fantastic thing in the world. One day he solemnly tells her that he was clinically depressed for a long time, and she wonders how such a happy thing could ever be depressed.

When he kisses her cheek one day while they are picking Apricorns from a tree, she doesn't even slap him.

She tells herself that he's not a filler for N, and with the way he is, that's easy to believe. He is a rough and tumble boy, lanky and always with dirt on his face. He's the life of the party; the boys all throw their arms around him and guffaw and the girls bat their lashes, and when he looks at Hilda after he does…_that, _she knows that he expects her to do the same. Instead, she bites into an Apricorn and stares at him like he's weird.

The question of a boyfriend comes up one day, and she cannot even bring herself to speak. The word is caught in her throat like a fly in a spider's web.

She shakes her head.

He acts like he doesn't believe it, but really, he's thrilled, and she can tell.

"So.." He bites into a piece of fruit, and the smallest bit of juice dribbles down his chin. She resists the urge to lick it off before he wipes it away. "Really no boyfriend, huh?"

She shakes her head again.

He looks at her like he's given him an invitation before he kisses her.

She hates it, hates it so much she could cry like a spoiled child. His mouth tastes sweet from the fruit and his arms are strong from years of sports, his hair is soft under her fingers and he is a wonderful kisser, and she hates it. But she returns it in the hope that Will's kisses are just an acquired taste.

Another year passes.

They are not dating – at least, not what she calls dating. He's asked her out and she's nodded and the whole town whispers behind cupped hands about them, but they're not dating. Dating implies hope. Dating implies love. It implies that they are happy.

He may be, but she is not. Either way, he can't tell, which is good.

Another year.

She begins to hang out with Will more often, except this time they're around Cheren and Bianca. The day that Bianca says: "So…are you two, like, gonna be married or something?" in a spoiled tone is the day that she begins to hate herself.

They are officially a couple, Will and Hilda, and she begins to feel something again.

It's not positive.

Another year.

They are twenty and twenty one, now, the ripe age in which couples from her small town get married. She brings him back there to meet her mother and her brother, and they get along swimmingly. N is just a capitalized letter.

Another year.

They are married, a small ceremony in which he promises to be hers forever and she manages a few loving sentences in return. The audience lets out a coo, they kiss, and it's done. She's safe. No more wondering, no more hurt.

Their honeymoon is romantic and sweeter than his lips from their first kiss, but the entire time she is itching to take a shower. She can't recall why.

Another year.

She is happy until May, when a knock sounds on the door of their new house.

"I'll get it!" She hears Will call from the living room, followed by the sound of a door creaking and a gruff "who the hell are you?" in a voice that breaks her heart.

She is cutting tomatoes for dinner as she listens, but at the voice she stops halfway through a slice. Underneath all the Novocain numbness that she has had for so long, something twitches.

"Can I help you?" The note of anger in her husband's tone is a warning, and although she doesn't love him, she knows him. She has to step in or the other man is a goner.

She enters into the foyer and sees him, but she doesn't stop until she's by Will's side and hanging lovingly onto his arm.

N's face makes her want to die.

"Hilda?" His voice is soft, and she realizes that he's real as she takes him in. He looks…oh god.

He dressed up for her.

His hair is cut short, and he wears a dress shirt and slacks, which is _so_ out of character for him. He is pristine, and he outshines Will.

But she is still on the latter's arm.

"So. I see you were the one who found a pretty blonde thing." Will is not blonde, and he's really not pretty, but the words make her throat constrict.

No. She can't.

She is happy now. She has a husband and her dreams are filled with a bouncing baby with her eyes and it's father's smile. Her house is clean and her life is perfect and he cannot _do this to her._

She doesn't answer.

"I'm sorry, my wife doesn't talk much." Will's words, attempting to be polite an effort to make up for her lack of answer, but they are more painful than he realizes. He has killed two birds with one stone. The words _wife_ and _doesn't talk much_ are his downfall.

She can practically see N putting them into an equation. _If you leave your soul mate alone for six years, what is the probability of her finding another man?_

She almost laughs at her shit effort of trying to think in mathematical terms. Old Hilda would have laughed, anyway. New Hilda wants to cry.

She is seconds from doing so before she realizes that N has just pinned Will against the wall. His voice is savage, raw, as he yells profanities in the brunet's face. How long has it been since he's screamed like this?

_Never_, she thinks. _He has never screamed like this._

She watches in a daze as Will gasps for air under N's forearm, frozen in time, before she acts, shoving the green-haired man into the kitchen so they can speak alone.

"What the hell do you think your doing?!" She speaks with such ferocity that she feels like a champion again.

"What am I doing? What are you doing?! I waited for you! I waited and I come back and you've got some farmer on your arm, telling me that you're his wife!" He has never sounded so angry, so passionate in his beliefs. Her heart gives a tiny little thump.

"Because I am his wife!"

He draws back, and they fall into silence.

"What's his name?" His voice is calm, even, measured out. He does not want to upset her, even now.

"..What?"

"What's. His. Name." When did he learn to sound threatening?

She sighs, happy to have such an easy answer. "Will. His name is Will." She realizes the mistake of putting affection into the words when she glances back up.

"And you…l-lo-" he clears his throat, unable to use the word. "You care for him?"

She considers it. "I don't..y'know. But I do care."

He almost seems satisfied with the answer before she becomes furious with realization.

"You yelled at me."

He is surprised, and she sees that he's lost the ability to hide it. "What?"

"You. Yelled. At. Me." Suddenly she is screaming, pushing him away. "I waited six goddamn years for you! Six years, not one, not two, SIX!" her voice shatters on the last word. "What do you want me to do, join a convent every time you leave the region? Because it's not like that. It's never going to be like that. I waited, and waited, and you never came back, so I gave up." She draws in a breath to yell some more when she feels eyes on her back, and she turns to find Will looking at her like she's a phoenix, burning bright right there in his kitchen, and N is a fire extinguisher.

She huffs, throwing herself into his arms, in need of the comfort he so tenderly gives.

She can hear the rumble in his chest as he tells the other man to get the hell out, and she can smell N's scent as he passes by. The door slams, and she is numb again.

That night, Will hears her sobbing through the darkness and pulls her tight, instead of letting her have her space like he usually does. She digs her fingers into his damp shirt, breathing deeply to get past the hiccuping sobs. He smells like sweat and soap, not a hint of outdoors-y smell on him. Good. She doesn't need any reminders.

"He was important to you."

She nods vigorously before realizing he can't see her. "Y-yeah." A pause as she considers just breaking the ice now. "I love him."

Will sighs, as if he knew all along. "Yeah."

She glances up. "You're not surprised."

"From the moment he looked at you, I saw it. Of course I'm not surprised." He wraps her up tighter, as if he knows that this is the last time. "If you love something, set it free, I guess."

A hummingbird seems to fly around in her chest, and she snorts as old Hilda leaks through. "You don't sound very eager."

She hears him chuckle. "I love you. Am I supposed to be eager to be letting you run off to someone you love more than me?"

It sounds so harsh, put like that, but she can't deny it. So she touches his face instead, her hand cupping his cheek. "Hey. Don't talk like that. I still care about you a lot, or I wouldn't have married you." She feels him nod under her hand, but she's still not convinced. "Besides. I'm still staying here for tonight, because I'm always freezing and you're always hot as hell."

He laughs, although it's dejected and broken. "I wish I could take that a different way."

The sound of skin coming into contact with skin breaks the air, and he nearly whimpers at the slap.

"Don't get ahead of yourself." As if to make up for the pain, a soft pressure comes down on his cheek.

"Good night, Will."

"Good night."

He doesn't sleep a wink, and neither does she.

[]

The next morning she is gone, her feet barely touching the ground as she runs to the Pokemon center. Maybe if she's fast…

But instead of seeing a relaxed, early morning center, she sees one with flashing blue and red lights. Her heart catches in her throat.

They've found him.

~ a!n: anyone here watch Hannibal? Because if you do then you know that Will is supposed to look like Will Graham, who is just so sexyfine I can't even

Anyway.

Hope you enjoyed. I really like doing cliffhangers, because if I forget where I'm at for the next chapter, I can just look back at the last one. :D I hate reading them though. Go figure.

Reviews make me happier than a Pikachu on drugs, so please leave me some so I have an excuse to do another chapter early!

Ta-ta! ~


	8. Chapter 8

~ a!n: there's a little bit of torture in this chapter. It's not too graphic, and most of it is implied, but if that triggers you, then please skip this chapter. ~

Of all the ways that Hilda had expected the day to start, punching a cop was not one of them.

"Where is he?!" The words made several heads turn in their direction, but if the general populace were concerned, they didn't show it.

"I don't know, ma'am. Last I saw, they were taking him away in a cop car.." The officer cradled his bruised jaw as he trailed off. "Say, aren't you the champ-"

She is gone before he can finish the sentence.

The sound of a Pokeball opening fills the crisp air, closely followed by a bellowing roar that shakes the very ground. Reshiram glances down at her, as if to say "where the hell have you been?" But she doesn't have time to explain, so she just pats the Pokemon's flank and clambers atop its back, the bewildered gazes be damned.

"I'll explain later. For now, we need to go get a couple of people." The giant dragon screeches again, the very sound like thunder in their ears. She supposes they are scared, the others, judging by the way they stare in a mixture of wonder and confusion. They have a right to be. Reshiram is ferocious-looking, and although in reality it's just a gentle giant, Hilda's not about to correct them.

For a fleeting moment, she imagines what it would have been like if she had just ran away with N in the first place: a couple of street rats, stealing food and laughing all the while. Getting caught occasionally, only to run away when their captors realized who they were, giggling like children. Her heart thumps with longing, but that's only for a second before her stomach lurches and adrenaline fills her veins as Reshiram leaps into the air. She clutches the soft patch of fur on the back of its neck, attempting not to fall off as they rise into the clouds.

"Alright, buddy. Let's go home."

The beast roars.

[]

"Tell me again why you're involving us in this?"

The attitude in Cheren's tone has not faded over the years.

"Oh, shush, Cher. It'll be fun! Besides, Hilda knows what she's doing." Bianca pats her friend's back as her husband turns pink with embarrassment. The muttered "don't call me that in front of Hilda" does not escape the brunette's ears.

"Uh..erm..anyway…where do you think they're keeping N?" Cheren's attempts at being mathematical are remnant of their teenage years, and Hilda returns the favor by doing a very teenage-esque thing: shrugging her shoulders.

"Probably wherever they're keeping Ghetsis." She can practically hear Cheren rolling his eyes at her observation.

"Well, obviously. The question is rather, where are they keeping Ghetsis?" He attempts to lean against Reshiram's wing, only to cry out when it lowers and rises in a quick stroke. She doesn't take her eyes off the sky ahead, but she can guess that the girlish giggles are Bianca's.

"When they took Ghetsis away in the castle, they were back right after N left. So they couldn't have gone very far. Maybe four or five minutes away from the throne room." Cheren chews his lip as he considers the theory, and when his lip begins to bleed he moves to his fingernails. Hilda tunes out right about the time that Bianca begins to fuss over him, her high pitched soprano scolding him relentlessly.

Her feet, which rest on either side of Reshiram's neck, give a light tap, and one blue eye looks back at her.

"Can you take us to the castle?" A roar of assent fills the air.

[]

N has not been so bruised since he was his father's son.

The flame-haired man in front of him eyes him like an Ekans might an Emolga…like predator eyes prey.

"You do realize that you have so many charges stacked up on your name, it's very unlikely you'll escape with anything but the death penalty."

The words do not affect him. He doesn't even flinch.

Alder is not satisfied, obviously, because he continues. "Your girlfriend might suffer too, if you do not submit."

He cannot hold his tongue any longer. "She's not my girlfriend. She is married now."

The other bristles at that. "Undyingly loyal to you, I see."

Not for the first time, N fights the chains that shackle him to the wall. And not for the first time, his head lowers in defeat.

The laughter that follows pushes anger through him, and he practically seethes as rage courses through his very veins.

"No matter. He can easily be disposed of. Then, you'd like that, wouldn't you? No competition, just a grieving Hilda. You could perhaps comfort her.." The meaning behind comfort does not escape him, and he bitterly spits in Alder's direction.

"Now, now. Control your temper, little king. She will be here soon. In the meantime.." His hand appears from his robe, the grubby fingers latching around the handle of a coiled whip.

He isn't afraid. _He isn't._

The weapon cracks against his stomach, leaving a gash in it's wake, and he almost breaks.

"Now, what does this remind you of?"

"_Stupid, insolent boy, you are no son of mine-"_

It cracks again, the noise like lightning, and he presses himself backwards into the wall, as if the concrete will protect him.

"Ah. I see you're reminiscing."

He thinks he might be crying, but he can't be sure. His hands are bound, after all, and checking for tears is impossible.

"Perhaps pain will help you forget." The older man studies N, as if he is thinking very hard. "My mother used to tell me that pain can help you focus on other things. Shall we test that out?"

N lowers his head like a beaten dog. "You cannot do this."

"But I can, little king. I can." A finger traces his jaw, a rough parody of Hilda's love. Except there is no affection in it. This is not a lover admiring another, but a scientist prepping the test subject for experimentation. "You should've rotted in the cell with your father. You should've never gotten away." A hand cracks across his cheekbone. "And now, you never will." He turns, grabbing for a corkscrew looking object.

"A whip is a bit bland. How about we see what we can do with those fingers of yours? They say you are a mathematical sort. Perhaps they will be harder to break if they are strong from all the writing." He grins the grin of a madman. "We shall see."

Somewhere in the castle, a man screams in agony, and the Goddesses of Love and Peace flinch.

[]

The hallways are practically empty as the trio walk them. There are no guards, no team rocket members…everything has been frozen in time.

"Creepy." Bianca's voice echoes throughout the long hallway, and Hilda suddenly regrets bringing along these two.

"Yeah. Maybe we were wrong, coming here. It's so obvious, I doubt…hey, where are you going? Get back here!" Emolga lets out a squeak at it's owner's cries, pawing deliberately at a spot on the tiled floor.

"What the hell are you-" Hilda practically squeaks herself when a piece of the floor actually_ moves._

Cheren is the first to move, helping the electric Pokemon move the tile and leaving behind a staircase leading downwards.

"My hero!" Bianca's screech is loud enough to make Hilda want to cover her ears, but she restrains herself as the blonde throws her arms around her husband's neck, covering him in kisses even though all he really did was move a tile.

Ugh, lovebirds.

She's not about to waste time being a third wheel, so she pushes past the couple without hesitation and descends the staircase.

[]

Alder watches on a television screen as the trio descend the stairs into the lower castle, barely able to contain his glee. He turns, practically bursting with the noise, and begins to speak to the battered thing on the wall that is N. His fingers are broken, twisted around grotesquely from the previous instruments. His stomach bleeds profusely, a mixture of vomit and blood. His head hangs at a strange angle, pointed towards the floor like a heeling dog.

"Your friends are almost here, little king." He barely glances up in reply.

[]

The place is worse than she thought. There are rows of cells, each filled to the brim with either humans or Pokemon. She recognizes one of them as N's team, and her stomach lurches. She immediately stops, reaching to pull the bobby pin from her hair.

"Hilda?" Bianca turns, her perfectly plucked eyebrows drawn together in confusion. But the brunette wastes no time, jamming the pin into the lock and beginning her attempt at picking it.

Cheren scoffs when he sees what she's doing. "There's no way you can pick that lock. It's probably manufactured so nobody can…" he trails off as the lock clicks, and the door swings open. Bianca reacts first, rushing into the cell.

"Oh, poor babies! Poor things, here, I have some potions in my bag-"

"You stay here with the Pokemon. I'm going to go on ahead." The words have barely left Hilda's mouth before she has dropped the pin into Cheren's palm and went on ahead.

She doesn't make it far before two pairs of eyes draw her attention.

"…Anthea? Concordia?" The names come to her quickly, and Hilda reaches to palm the bars, her eyes wide.

Despite their circumstance, the Goddess of Love smiles.

"Ah, you again. I should have known you would come. How does the saying go? 'Love conquers all' or something to that extent?"

As much as the words make her heart throb, she doesn't have time for prophetic words.

"Where is he? Where is N? Where did they take him?"

Their expression change from gladness to pity, and her heart stops it's throbbing and drops to her stomach.

"We do not know. We believe we heard his screams earlier."

She begins to run.

[]

"They're almost here, little king." Mockery in his tone, mixed with pure hatred.

N does not have the strength to answer, and he instead gives a last attempt to break his chains.

Needless to say, he fails.

[]

Each door is labeled, but it is the one that has nothing on it that calls to her.

"Ah, champion. So glad you could make it."

This is usually the part of the story where the heroine runs to her lover's side, falling directly into an elaborate scheme plotted by the antagonist. But she is not your average heroine, so instead of wasting time running to comfort N, she digs her fingernails into Alder's eyes, her free hand yanking Absol's Pokeball from her pocket.

When the button clicks, hell breaks loose.

[]

N is vaguely aware of loud noises straight from a nightmare, and he almost laughs. So he ended up in hell after all.

He might as well get some sleep. He's very tired, you know.

[]

By the time she is finished with him, Alder is in worse shape than N. Absol plays guard calmly, licking the blood from its usually perfect coat as if it has not just seriously injured another human being.

Hilda works vigorously on the chains, humming nonchalantly as she works.

A very quiet voice whispers her name.

"That's me."

He coughs, and she tries not to look at the blood that falls on the floor as a result. "You're here."

"In the flesh."

Another hack. "I'm not…I can't…" He swallows. "I'm not going to last very long."

She touches his face, and he flinches with the memory of Alder. "Shush. Yes you are. You know you are."

She finishes the last chain, and he flees from the metal embrace of the clamps and falls into hers.

It all slips into blackness, and he thinks that if he must die, he would gladly die in her arms.

[]

Anthea and Concordia are freed, as well as the Pokemon locked in the cells. Cheren helps Hilda carry N up the stairs, and she is sure that if not for Bianca he would be continuously complaining. The only one left behind is Alder.

[]

He wakes surrounded by the sterile smell that only a hospital provides.

"Anthea."

She brushes the hair from his face, and when he sees her hand come away clean, he realizes they must have bathed him.

"Hello, darling."

"I don't…"

"Shh." She rubs his arm, attempting to lull him back into sleep. "She is fine. We're all fine." She pauses, as if considering something. "She freed us all. She is a hero." Another pause. "You are very lucky to have her." Her hand leaves his arm, reaching up away from his sight, and he is suddenly very, very sleepy.

"You cut your hair short." She notes curiously, and he descends back into the blackness.

[]

"How is he?"

The Goddess of Love smiles in reply. "Asleep."

"Oh."

She must sense the brunette's disappointment, because she shakes her head. "You may still visit him, if you like."

Hilda attempts not to look too eager as she enters, immediately pulling a chair up and plopping down beside him. She falls into unconsciousness to the beeping of the machines.

[]

When Anthea checks on him again, she notes the young thing that has latched herself to his side, and she allows herself a grin.

The young man beside her is less than amused.

She notes the disappointment on his face. "You love her?"

Will nods once.

"Love is very painful sometimes."

He nods again, and she frowns.

"Goddess or no, I'm hungry. Will you escort a lady downstairs to get some lunch?" She loops her arm through his, practically dragging the poor thing away.

"You think she's happy?"

"Of course."

He chews that over a minute. "Then I'm happy."

[]

Their reunion occurs in the middle of the night, when N shakes her vigorously from her slumber.

"Mm? What is it?...Oh. Right. Sorry. I'll get off your bed now." She begins to clamber down onto the chair drowsily, but immediately reclaims her spot when N insists otherwise.

"Anthea said you saved everyone."

She rolls over, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and yawning. "I wouldn't go that far. You were in trouble, I saved your ass."

He snorts, winces when it jostles the tubes in his nose. "Yeah. Guess so."

She fully opens her eyes then, looking him over: his broken fingers, all wrapped up and bandaged. The bruise on his lip, the cuts that cover him.

"You shouldn't have come back."

He shrugs. "I couldn't wait any longer. I was too late, though."

"No. No you're not." The confused look he gives her draws the answer from her mouth. "I left him. Told him the truth. And he let me go."

He sighs. "You shouldn't have done that."

"I don't care." She wraps her fingers in his hair, the only part of him she can touch without causing him to cry out in pain. "You cut it short."

"I wanted to look less like a street rat and more like a gentleman."

"I like it long, honestly." The kiss is small, gentle so as not to hurt him.

"Wish you'd told me that earlier."

She laughs, and the noise echoes. "Oh well. I guess I'll just have to make up for it later, huh?"

"You better."

~ a!n: one more chapter to go! Maybe two, since I'm not sure whether I want to make the epilogue a second chapter or not. I really don't like this chapter, since I felt like I switched P.O.V. too much, but I wanted to show what happened to N while Hilda was searching for him. Oh well. ~


	9. Chapter 9

"'He is called Prince Charming. Don't you like the name?' said Sybille. 'Oh, you silly boy, you should never forget it-"

"Hilda?"

The brunette glances up from her place in the book that's perched in her lap, although judging from the way it's teetering it won't stay that way much longer. One meticulously plucked eyebrow rises, practically daring the man in the hospital bed to continue interrupting her in this way. This marks the third time he had stopped her reading in the middle of a line, and frankly, she was getting ready to smack him, injuries be damned.

"As much as I appreciate you attempting to keep me entertained, I do not need you to sit by my bed and read me fairytales."

The book closes with a snap as she glares at him. He had caught a glance down at the title when she had first began her reading, and had almost scoffed when it had read 'The Picture of Dorian Gray.' Who cared about a fictional story of vanity? He liked his head where it was, though, so he hadn't said a word up until now.

"It's not a fairytale! It's my favorite story." She persists.

"The man dies by stabbing his own picture. Tell me again how that is not the stuff of fairytales?" Hilda lets out a huff that bordered on a growl, standing as if to leave.

"Fine. I'll take my stories elsewhere and read them. I don't need an audience." She whirls on her heel, making for the door, only to turn back when slender fingers wrap around her wrist. She shoots a glance over her shoulder at the contact, and is met with N's placating smile that borders on wan. And though she knew he was manipulating her with blasted circumstance, she still sighs and gives in, taking a seat on the side of the bed. Her fingers card through his hair, almost shoulder length now, in an attempt to keep from hitting him.

"Do you really have to read to me? I could read perfectly fine by myself, you know." Again that smile, the small head tilt into her hand. She's not stupid; she knows when he's carding her into staying just a little longer. She's had enough Pokemon to know when they want something, she just doesn't have the resolve to say no.

So instead of jumping up and leaving him to pout, she grins in return, tangling her fingers into his locks absentmindedly. "Could you? With your behavior, I'd never have guessed." His smile sours immediately as he tenses, and she bursts into giggles.

"I'm _kidding._" Her grip in N's hair tightens momentarily before releasing itself, and he gradually relaxes. She grows serious when he grabs almost greedily for her hand, her answer coming when he succeeds in the endeavor. "I know you can read. I'm sure you can read much better than I can. I just…" she stares down at their joined hands, noting how different they look from her memory. In her memories, her hand is pale, not this tan shade that it has acquired after living in that bright sunshine world with Will. When she pictures it, his hands are long and willowy, not bandaged and ugly looking as they are now. If he had the capacity to master piano before, he has lost it. She shoves away the thought that their hands are not the only differences between them, and attempts to scrap up a finish for her sentence.

"I love you, that's all." It does not make him smile like it is supposed to. Instead, it draws a small crease between his brows, and it's his turn to stare at their hands as the silence turns from comfortable to awkward. He does not return her sentiment.

"You said you would wait." His voice is very quiet for a grown man.

She lets out a humorless laugh that more resembles a hurt noise. "For six years? You wanted me to wait on you for six years, never knowing where you were or if you were coming back or if you had found someone else?" Her own voice is as nonchalant as if she were making comments on the weather. She is too strong to be vulnerable these days. She is practically made of steel with everything that she has suffered through.

His grip on her fingers tightens to the point of pain, and when he answers, his tone has dropped from strangely quiet to a harsh whisper. "_Yes._"

"You said you would wait. I never said I would." It's a low blow, and she immediately regrets it, but when he looks up and searches for that regret she hides it. She wants him to hurt like she has. She wants him to think she means it. She wants him to put up a fight, to be passionate about something for once.

But instead of fighting her, he sighs and releases her hand. She jerks it back like he's burned her.

"You may go, then." She would be offended at the idea that she needs his permission if she wasn't so focused on the stinging feeling in her chest.

"W-what?"

He gestures towards the door with an injured hand. "I am sure he's out there, waiting for you. If you like your new toy so very much, go play with it."

She cradles her own fingers in her lap, wondering if he's bluffing. She does not like Will at all, but it seems that N hasn't quite caught onto that yet.

"Go on, then. Do not wait on me. I do not need you anymore." His voice is cold and hard. There is not a hint of affection lingering around. There are no "please do not go" undertones, no remorseful gazes left over, and she realizes that she is not the only one made of steel.

"And what if I need you?" She knows his answer before it leaves his lips.

For a split second, he drops his façade as his face softens. He shakes his head very slowly, deliberately. "You do not."

And he's right, she doesn't. She is perfectly capable of standing on her own. She has faced gym leaders and Pokemon and Kings and organizations and has come away with a pleased team and a champion's crown. She does not need a crutch to support her, does not need a husband or a boyfriend or even friends. She can survive all by herself, true enough. She just doesn't want to.

"You…but…I don't…"

He chuckles, and the noise is empty. "How very articulate you have become."

Her hand itches to crack across his cheek bone, and in the effort to restrain it she forgets not to laugh. She quickly covers her mouth afterwards, too stubborn to let the odds be in his favor even slightly, but the damage is done. He grins.

"You should laugh more often. It does you more good than that sour face you pull all the time." If there was tension between them before, it's dissolved as she slaps his leg through the covers, cursing him.

"I do not pull a sour face!" He responds with a rather bad imitation of her, earning him another smack. "Stop that!"

"Oh, look at me, I am Hilda and I can act like an angsty teenager all the time. Please, put another camera on me."

"That is so not me!"

He smirks. "Isn't it?"

"No!"

"You have a warped perception of yourself, then."

"Or maybe you're just a jerk."

"No, I think you just have a warped perception."

She lets out a mumbled "damn you," before grabs his hospital gown, tugging him closer and kissing him hard.

[]

The cafeteria rumbles with voices, and Will ignores every one of them in favor of stabbing his food with his plastic fork. He doesn't know why he's still here. Maybe he's waiting for Hilda to make her mind up in his direction, even though he knows from the Goddess's pitying looks that the chances of that are painfully slim. He never had a chance at all.

Anthea must be omniscient, because she grabs his free hand and squeezes like she knows.

"Why him?" He says bitterly, and she gives his digits another squeeze as he wonders why she sticks around.

"This started long before you came into the picture. It's not your fault." He stabs a piece of chicken with vigor, but she doesn't jump at the noise it makes.

"She never loved me."

"As a husband? No. As a friend? Dearly."

He scoffs. "Yeah, because that's definitely an improvement."

She rubs her thumb across his palm, and Will lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"You'll find someone. It isn't the end of the world."

He glances up at her suspiciously. "How do you know?"

She beams at him. "I'm the Goddess of Love. I'm the most trustworthy source there is."

For the first time, he smiles tiredly. "Yeah, I guess you are."

Her free hand pats his forearm before gesturing to the untouched hospital food. "Of course I am. Now eat something before you wither up and float away."

He thinks he catches her smiling when he bites into his food.

[]

"'When they entered, they found hanging upon the wall a splendid portrait of their master as they had last seen him, in all the wonder of his exquisite youth and beauty. Lying on the floor was a dead man, in evening dress, with a knife in his heart. He was withered, wrinkled, and loathsome in visage. It was not until they had examined the rings that they recognized who it was.'" As Hilda reads the last line, she glances up at N from her spot on the bed beside him with expectant eyes. "Did you like it?"

Honestly, N thought it was dull, but he doesn't voice his boredom. He instead kisses her hair and pulls her tighter against him, the book forgotten. "I loved it."

She smiles like he's just given her a diamond ring, her finger prodding into his chest accusingly. "You better. That story is the best one Oscar Wilde ever wrote."

N doesn't know who Oscar Wilde is, and he really doesn't care, so he just nods and smiles before changing the subject. "The nurse says I'll be released by tomorrow."

She curls into him, hiding her face in his chest. "We'll ride out on Reshiram first thing in the morning, then."

Of course, it is so like Hilda to crave adventure at every turn.

"And where will we go?"

She makes a noise of contemplation, but N suspects she's had this planned out for a while. "Johto, maybe. I hear there's a professor who gives National Pokedex to the trainers with the best potential." He can practically feel her ambitious side leaking through.

"Johto it is." He returns the kiss that she practically attacks him with, and unwillingly pulls away when she props herself up on her elbow.

"Do you think Alder will ever get out of the castle?"

"Unlikely. Ghetsis used to constantly remind me of how strong it was, how sturdy. Alder will probably die down there, looking for an exit."

"Why do you think he wanted to use..y'know..your father's rooms? For what he did?" N shrugs in reply.

"Probably emotional torment as well as physical." He leaves out the part about it working extremely well, and instead of noticing, Hilda huddles back down with him.

"That won't happen again." A statement, not an inquiry, and he bites back the reminder that she's made that promise before.

He kisses her forehead instead. "No, of course not."

[]

[A!N: this chapter was kind of short, since it's really just a filler for the epilogue. Sorry guys! Also, yes, I've decided to make the epilogue another chapter, since I can't stand to leave this story on an odd number. ;-; As always, R&R, and thank you to my lovely followers/favoriters/reviewers. This story would not be where it's at without you all. :3]


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